


Rescue

by Isi1dur



Series: Legacy [2]
Category: I Am Number Four (2011), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Lorien Legacies - Pittacus Lore
Genre: 11 - Freeform, AU, Adoption, Alien Original Male Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers Family, Brothers, Canon Divergent, Comfort, Credit to angryjane for the ship name, Crossover, Distrust, Gradual Trust, Honestly my update schedule has gone down the drain, Hurt, Knives, Mama Spider, Miss Me with that Trauma Stuff, New School, Nightmares, Not Infinity War and Endgame compliant, Orphans, Pepperony - Freeform, Peter is also a Good Bro to 11, Peter is an Awesome Older Brother to Lila Cooper and Nathaniel, Pranks, PrincessSpider, Real Name: Vintoran Sy, Seriously Mentions of Torture, Trauma, but not by blood, genius, new avenger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-11-13 23:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 37,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isi1dur/pseuds/Isi1dur
Summary: Without warning, a hand closed around his throat from behind, lifting 11 off the ground and turning him toward the owner of the hand. It was a Trueborn Mog; the others were Vatborn, cannon fodder, grown to die. This one would have been esteemed as royalty by his companions, had there been any more to esteem him. He looked furious, his hatred clear in his sneer and the tight grip on 11’s neck.Spots swirled around his vision and he struggled to draw a breath. Is this it? The last Mogadorian and I fail at the very end? Cruel.The Mog opened his mouth to say something, but before he got a word out, a hiss sounded from 11’s left and something pierced the Mog’s head, killing him instantly.His vision darkening, 11 looked at the object in the Mog’s head as it let go of him and fell to the ground.An arrow?And then: nothingness.





	1. Prologue*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without warning, a hand closed around his throat from behind, lifting 11 off the ground and turning him toward the owner of the hand. It was a Trueborn Mog; the others were Vatborn, cannon fodder, grown to die. This one would have been esteemed as royalty by his companions, had there been any more to esteem him. He looked furious, his hatred clear in his sneer and the tight grip on 11’s neck.
> 
> Spots swirled around his vision and he struggled to draw a breath. Is this it? The last Mogadorian and I fail at the very end? Cruel.
> 
> The Mog opened his mouth to say something, but before he got a word out, a hiss sounded from 11’s left and something pierced the Mog’s head, killing him instantly.
> 
> His vision darkening, 11 looked at the object in the Mog’s head as it let go of him and fell to the ground.
> 
> An arrow?
> 
> And then: nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfic! As you can see in the tags, it is a crossover. If you haven't read the Lorien Legacies books, that's fine; there are some spoilers, but you don't have to read the books to understand this story. This will probably not be very good, but I just had an idea and wanted to run with it. This is an au: the remaining Loriens left with the humans with legacies to restore Lorien. If I feel like the story isn't going like I want it to, I will probably change it partway through. I will alert you in the notes if I have done so. Hope you enjoy!

**11**

Running.

 

Panting.

 

Sweat.

 

Blurred scenery.

 

How long had he been running? Two days? Three? The only thing keeping him conscious was the Loric salt from his pouch; and he had almost exhausted that resource.

 

At least the others could send him more if he runs out, even if it would take half a year to get here. _I wonder how the restoration process is going. Have the resources begun replenishing? No, stop. Now is not the time to daydream, not when there’s a Mog battalion on my tail._

 

11 had been the one to volunteer to stay behind when the others departed for Lorien. While they worked on restoring their home planet, he worked on cleansing Earth of the Mogadorian scourge. That was four years ago. The contingent following him now was the last one on the planet; of that, 11 was certain. He’d been scouting this base for a month—learning their routines, counting their numbers, taking stock of their weapons. He wanted to be prepared to decimate them when he attacked. Of course, _of COURSE_ , they had been watching for him too. They hadn’t spotted him when he had arrived, not for a month. Then, when he was going through the town toward their base, the Mogs attacked. ONE DAY before he was going to attack.

 

According to his count, there were 500 Mogadorians at this base. He’d killed more in the past few years, no big deal; but there were civilians present. He’d had to lead the Mogs away from the town to avoid casualties.

 

Hence his current position: 11 looked ahead and saw that the woods were ending in half a mile. _A farm; or just some random field? I REALLY hope I don’t destroy someone’s property._ 11 flew out of the woods and kept running until he reached the field of tall grass. _Looks like wheat; sorry whoever owns this._ Sliding to a stop, he dropped his duffel bag and pulled his pouch from his back. The salt under his tongue had just dissolved and he could feel the loss of the energy it provided; he felt in his pouch and groaned, “One left, better make it count.” 11's legs ached from constantly running and his arms stung from throwing too many fireballs, but he couldn't stop. Not when he was so close to finishing.

 

11 calmed his breathing and focused on sweeping the woods with his telekinesis. _How many left? 1, 2, 3 . . ._ He counted their troops as they amassed behind the trees, no doubt preparing to attack _en masse_. _Fifty three, fifty three more and my mission is complete. Come on, you can do this._ He slipped the tasteless crystal under his tongue.

 

Silence.

 

Subdued breathing.

 

A slight breeze.

 

Then all hell broke loose. With a loud war cry, all the Mogadorians swarmed out of the woods, firing their weapons with trained accuracy, blanketing the area. 11 took a deep breath and focused on the clouds above him, building them, swirling them, stoking them into a terrible, dark storm. He could feel the hairs on his arm stand on end as the static built in the storm; but he didn’t let it release, not yet. The Mogadorian arm canons set the grass on fire. _I can use that._ Still building up the lightning, 11 used his telekinesis to draw the fire into the air and mix it with his deadly storm, just as he drew down a funnel. Directing the tornado through the Mog soldiers, he finally released the static electricity from the clouds—it was starting to become palpable—in a beautiful series of electric blue lightning bolts. It was three seconds of lightning strikes and the tornado before he released the storm and observed the damage.

 

This section of the field was now a barren wasteland; Mogadorian dust piles covered the area; there didn’t seem to be any survivors. _Is this it? Is it over?_

 

Without warning, a hand closed around his throat from behind, lifting 11 off the ground and turning him toward the owner of the hand. It was a Trueborn Mog; the others were Vatborn, cannon fodder, grown to die. This one would have been esteemed as royalty by his companions, had there been any more to esteem him. He looked furious, his hatred clear in his sneer and the tight grip on 11’s neck.

 

Spots swirled around his vision and he struggled to draw a breath. _Is this it? The last Mogadorian and I fail at the very end? Cruel._

 

The Mog opened his mouth to say something, but before he got a word out, a hiss sounded from 11’s left and something pierced the Mog’s head, killing him instantly.

 

His vision darkening, 11 looked at the object in the Mog’s head as it let go of him and fell to the ground.

 

_An arrow?_

 

And then: nothingness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	2. Archer*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Dad!” Cooper shouted uneasily from upstairs.
> 
> “What is it, Coop?”
> 
> “The perimeter sensors went off near the woods.”
> 
> “It’s probably just some deer; come down for breakfast, Junior.”
> 
> “Fifty of them?” Clint froze at Cooper’s words, before he rushed upstairs to the security room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New Chapter! Enjoy!

**Clint**

 

 

 

Clint woke up Thursday with a smile on his face. How could he not when he had a beautiful wife asleep next to him and three kids peacefully asleep in their rooms? Carefully, so as not to wake Laura up, Clint got out of bed and made his way downstairs to start on breakfast. He listed the various ingredients in his head as he gathered them: _eggs, bacon, strawberries, pancake batter, bread, blueberries, etc._

 

Thirty minutes into making breakfast, Clint heard his wife wake up and make her way downstairs. He smiled and gave her a kiss good morning.

 

“Do you need any help?”

 

“Nah, the food’s almost done; can you set the table, though? I’ll wake up the kids once I’m finished here.”

 

“Sure.”

 

Laura set to work setting up the table just as Clint finished cutting up the strawberries. “All right, I’ll go wake up the Munchkins.”

 

Clint headed upstairs and called out towards Lila’s and Cooper’s rooms, “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!”

 

Lila whined, “But, Daaaad, I told you, I’m a vegetarian, like Uncle Bruce.”

 

“Fine then, wakey wakey, vegetables and sadness,” he replied, smiling, while he picked Nathaniel up out of his crib.

 

Lila came out of her room with a pout on her face while Cooper just laughed at his sister’s expression.

 

“I’ll be right down for breakfast, I just need to use the restroom.”

 

“All right, but don’t take too long, Coop.”

 

The trio—sans Cooper—made their way downstairs, Lila rushing to hug her mother: “Morning, Mom!”

 

“Good morning Lila, go wash your hands and sit at the table.”

 

Lila speedily complied and the family sat at the table to wait for Cooper.

 

“Hey, Dad!” Cooper shouted uneasily from upstairs.

 

“What is it, Coop?”

 

“The perimeter sensors went off near the woods.”

 

“It’s probably just some deer; come down for breakfast, Junior.”

 

“Fifty of them?” Clint froze at Cooper’s words, before he rushed upstairs to the security room.

 

“Laura, get the kids in the bunker; Cooper what does the camera feed show?”

 

“It looks like some kind of soldiers, but they don’t have any flags on their armor.”

 

“Alright, get to the bunker; don’t come out until I contact you on the radio. Go!”

 

Cooper ran downstairs toward the bunker as Clint grabbed his bow and quiver from their place on the wall and a walkie-talkie from the table. _All right, let’s see what we’ve got._ Clint watched the soldiers emerge from the woods, and he expected them to start charging the house. But then they did the strangest thing: they started firing what looked like alien guns about twenty feet in front of them into the field. _What the—?_

 

Clint ran out of the house and toward the area where the soldiers were, noticing a small storm starting to form in area. _What in the world is going on here?!_ He kept along the edge of the woods until he drew close to the scene. Once he could see the soldiers, he climbed a tree and notched an arrow on his bow, watching the soldiers. Only, there were no more soldiers; instead there was what looked like a young boy—maybe 15, 16—being held up by the neck by what looked like a gray-skinned alien. He didn’t hesitate; Clint drew back the arrow and released it into the alien. It died, dropping the boy, who collapsed on the ground and didn’t move.

 

Clint barely registered that the area fifty feet surrounding the kid looked like it had suffered a forest fire, as he jumped down the tree and ran toward the kid. He didn’t bother with the alien; an arrow to the brain? It’s definitely dead. As he checked his breathing, Clint scanned over the kid for any obvious injuries and found a knife sticking out from his abdomen dangerously close to the liver. “All right, kid. Let’s get you some help.” Clint grabbed his walkie and called his wife, “Laura, get the first aid kit and clear the table. There’s a kid here with a stab wound and we need to take care of it now.”

 

He clipped his radio back on his belt and carefully picked up the boy so as not to disturb the knife, making his way back to the house.

 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Clint sighed and collapsed in his favorite armchair. The knife had barely missed the kid’s liver and there was no internal bleeding, so Clint had cleaned and bandaged the wound to stop the bleeding and then stitched him up. Gosh, this was not how he thought this day would go. The kid was stable, and the only other injury was the bruising on his neck from being choked. What had shocked Clint was the amount of scarring the kid had all over his body: small scars from knives; long scars that could only have been from swords; round bullet scars; he even had burn marks on the entirety of _both_ his forearms.

 

“Clint, where did this kid come from?”

 

“I don’t know; I got there and there weren’t even anymore soldiers; only one, and he was holding this kid up by his neck. It looked like an alien soldier. I’m going back there to see if I can find anything else.”

 

“Be careful.”

 

When Clint arrived at the scene, he finally noticed the clouds of dust in the air. _Where did the dust come from?_ The soldier he had killed was still lying there; but its body had partially disintegrated, parts of it turned to dust and the rest rotting. _Strange._ A little further from the soldier, Clint noticed something he hadn’t seen before: a duffel bag and a small pouch. Intrigued, he walked up to the bags and carefully studied them. There didn’t seem to be anything inherently dangerous about them so he tried to open them. The pouch flopped open with nothing inside, but the zipper on the duffel seemed stuck. No matter how hard he pulled, none of the three zippers of the duffel would move. Annoyed, Clint took out his knife and tried to cut open the bag. But, to his confusion, the knife did nothing to the material. _What’s this stuff made of?_ He shook his head and stood up to retrieve his arrow. He’d deal with the body later. He picked up the two bags and carried them back to the house.

 

When he got there, he realized it was already 11:00 and they still hadn’t eaten.

 

“All right, before we do anything else, let’s have breakfast. We’ll move the kid to the spare bedroom after we eat.”

 

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------

**11**

 

 

 

Pain.

 

The first thing 11 noticed when he started waking up was the pain. His side felt like it was freshly branded and his throat felt like it did that one time he forgot he couldn’t breathe fire. _What happened—_ And then he remembered: the fighting and the clouds of dust and how the last one had been about to kill him before— _The arrow._ Who had saved his life?

 

11 slowly blinked his eyes open and took in his surroundings. He was in a small room, old-looking, on a bed. When was the last time he slept? _Oh, yeah; three days ago._ He studied the room; it was definitely a country house, definitely old, and definitely not anywhere he recognized. 11 looked down at his abdomen and saw that his shirt was gone, and his abdomen was heavily bandaged. _Weird, I don’t remember getting injured there._ He assumed it was bad by the amount of bandages so he left them on and let his head fall back on the pillow. Everything was blurry and he was drained from running and fighting non-stop for three days. He was way too tired to try to leave, so what was there to do? Where was he? What was going to happen to him? Is anyone else here?

 

11 focused his hearing and tried to pick out any conversations that might be happening in the house. He heard two strains of conversation: one sounded like children—he ignored that one—and the other sounded like adults. 11 focused on the adults.

 

“How long do you think it will take for him to wake up?” a woman’s voice.

 

“I don’t know; he lost a lot of blood and I don’t know for how long that thing was choking him. He should wake up soon, I hope,” a man’s voice.

 

“I’m glad the bleeding finally stopped, but I’m worried. He should have woken up by now. At least he doesn’t have a fever. I’ll go replace the bandages and let you know if anything has changed.”

 

That effort alone exhausted 11 and he had to fight to keep his eyes open. The door opened, and a woman entered the room, stilling when she saw he was awake.

 

“Honey,” she called. “He’s awake.”

 

He heard footsteps approach the door. A man, about half a foot taller than the woman, came into the room and observed 11 with a schooled expression.

 

11 stared back with half-lidded eyes for a minute before he realized: “You’re Hawkeye.”

 

Hawkeye smiled before responding, “That’s right. How are you feeling?”

 

11 had to fight to get the words out: “Like I w's stabbed. How bad ‘s it?”

 

“Pretty bad. You bled a lot, but thankfully the knife just missed your liver. Should take a couple weeks to heal.”

 

11 blinked and slurred, “Wher’s m' duffel?”

 

“Downstairs. Couldn’t get it open, though; I think the zipper is stuck.”

 

“Need it.”

 

“No, you need rest. You were stabbed; you need to let your body recuperate.” Hawkeye replied firmly.

 

“I _need_ m' duff'l.” 11 tried to speak firmly, but he didn’t know how much he succeeded.

 

Hawkeye sighed but got up anyway and left the room. A short time later, he returned with 11’s duffel bag. 11 sighed with relief when he saw it wasn’t lost. Hawkeye placed the duffel on the bed next to 11 and sat down to watch him.

 

Ignoring Hawkeye and his—wife?—11 reached for the small front pocket of his duffel and easily opened it to reveal several multi-colored gems and stones. He reached for a flat black rock and zipped up the pocked again.

 

“I mi' pass ou' again after th's,” 11 warned blearily as he started to remove the bandages.

 

“Hey, hey leave those on, there are antibiotics on them. They’ll help.”

 

“They’re in th' way.” 11 ignored them and finished removing the bandages before taking a deep breath and clenching his teeth. He placed the healing stone on the wound.

 

Oh gosh, the pain. Twice any normal pain. So, so bad. The _pain._ He gasped out and bit back a scream. _Don’t black out. Don’t black out. Not yet._

 

Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. Then, it was over. The wound was healed. 11 let himself relax and fell into oblivion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you think in the comments!


	3. Story Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Hope you enjoy!  
> Introducing: The Avengers!

**Clint**

“What should we do with him? We were planning on leaving for the Compound tomorrow.”

“We can’t leave him here so we’ll take him with us. I’ll call Tony and tell him we have a guest . . .”

“Clint.”

“. . . and a potential recruit.”

“He’s just a kid!”

“So is Peter. Besides, if we don’t take him in, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have anywhere to go. Any family to go home to. I don’t want to just turn him onto the streets. If he can find a home with the Avengers, we’ll have done the right thing—have him live with people like himself.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. I’ll give Tony a call.”

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**11**

11 woke up this time in a sitting position, a whir of machinery around him.  _Why am I so exhausted? When was the last time I ate?_  He opened his eyes and found he was on what appeared to be a small jet. Looking around, 11 saw his satchel on the seat next to him, the healing stone on top. He reached over and replaced the stone in its spot in the duffel. Leaning back in his seat, 11 breathed a sigh of relief and let himself fall into sleep naturally for the first time in days.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

**Clint**

Clint watched the kid wake up, put away the stone away, and fall back asleep. How could someone sleep for 8 and then 15 hours and still feel that tired? How exhausted must he be?

They were a few hours from the Compound; he’ll wake up the kid—jeez, he doesn’t even know his name yet—when they get there.

**Time Jump_____________________________________________________________________________________________________**

“Legolas 1, this is Compound Air Control. You are cleared for landing.”

“Copy, Compound Control. It’s good to be back. And get Tony to change that name.”

“Copy,” the operator responded with a smile in her voice.

Clint landed the quinjet with minimal jostling and opened the hatch. Waiting on the landing platform were all the Avengers currently residing at the Compound: Tony, Peter, Steve, Nat, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Vision. Bruce was nowhere to be seen, but he was probably in the labs.

“Legolas, glad you could join us! Where’s this new recruit I’ve been hearing about?”

“Good to see you too, Tony,” Clint responded sarcastically. “And the kid’s still sleeping. Speaking of, could someone with super-strength take him inside? He’s kind of heavy.”

Steve stepped forward with a worried expression on his face, “Was he sleeping the whole flight?”

“Yeah, and 8 and 15 hours before then. Something could be wrong, or he could just be flat out exhausted.”

Steve nodded worriedly and carefully unstrapped the kid and carried him bridal-style into the Compound, the rest of the Avengers following. Lila and Cooper tackled Peter in hugs and laughter as Laura carried one-year-old Nathaniel straight to his Aunt Tasha. Clint smiled at the sight of Nat cooing at and holding a baby.

“So, Clint. What’s the deal with this kid?” Sam asked.

“Once we get unpacked, I’ll tell the team everything I know and show you the video footage.”

Once Clint, Laura, and the kids unpacked their rooms, everyone (Banner included now) made their way to the Avenger’s common area.

“Ok, Barton, story time.”

“Barnes, is it possible for you to say something and it not come out like a threat?” Tony quipped.

“Shut up, Stark.”

“Alright everyone. Three days ago, the perimeter sensors went off on my property, Video footage showed approximately 50 of what appeared to be soldiers, with unmarked armor, emerging from the woods. I made my way to confront them, but when I arrived there, there was only one soldier—he had gray skin.”

“Gray skin? Like “extremely sick” gray skin or “alien soldier” gray skin?”

“Alien.”

There were murmurs of concern throughout the team.

“Possible scouting party for an invasion?” Natasha asked.

“I don’t think so. Let me finish the story and tell me what you think. The soldier was at least eight feet tall, and he was holding the kid up off the ground by his neck.” Cue looks of shock. “Before I could react, the soldier pulled out knife and stabbed the kid in the abdomen. I immediately put an arrow through his head. The kid fell unconscious as soon as he fell to the ground and I brought him to the house for immediate first aid. Thankfully, the knife just missed his liver. After I stitched him up, I went back to the woods to see if I could find anything informative. When I got there, more than half of the soldier’s body was decayed and turned to dust.” There were many looks of confusion at this statement.

“I noticed the grass in the area was severely burned as if it had been set on fire, but there were no embers. Nearby, further into unburned tall grass, I found an empty pouch and a duffel bag. I tried to open the duffel bag, but none of the zippers would budge. I couldn’t even cut into it with my knife. I brought these back to the house and spent the next few hours monitoring the kid, making sure he had fresh bandages, and the stitches didn’t pop. Eight hours after he fell unconscious, he woke up. He was delirious, half-asleep. He insisted I bring his duffel bag and when I did, he opened the small front pouch without problem. I didn’t get a good look inside, but there seemed to be several crystals and stones of various sizes and shapes. He pulled out a round black stone and warned that he might pass out after some sort of . . . operation. He removed his bandages and took a deep breath before placing the stone on the wound. He looked like he was trying not to scream for about 30 seconds. Then he collapsed and fell unconscious again. The stab wound was healed.” Several mouths dropped open at this.

“Where’s this stone now?” Bruce asked.

“I left it on the duffel next to the kid on the quinjet and when he saw it, he put it back in the duffel.”

“We could have studied it! Why’d you do that, Barton?” Tony exasperatedly asked.

“I didn’t want to break the kid’s trust. How would you like it if someone saved your life then studied your arc reactor while you were out?”

Tony took this into consideration then nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Doesn’t mean I have to like it though. By the way, what’s the kid’s name?”

“He was never present enough mentally to answer questions. Anyway, this is the footage from the perimeter cameras. FRIDAY, I just sent you some footage, play it on the big screen, will you?”

“Of course Agent Barton.”

The footage from Clint’s security cameras started playing and the whole team looked on in interest. The first thing they saw was the kid running out from the woods holding a pouch on his back and a duffel in his hand. He ran straight into the tall grass and crouched down in hiding. There was silence for a moment before the soldiers appeared from the woods and began firing alien looking weapons all over the field in the kid’s direction.

“Carpet shots. They don’t know where he is.” That was Natasha.

The others nodded and they continued watching.

They saw the kid raise his hands and they thought he was surrendering. Then they noticed the clouds above the soldiers start to coalesce and darken, swirling menacingly.

“He can control the weather? That’s so cool!” Peter exclaimed.

The soldier’s canons had set most of the grass nearby on fire by now and all of a sudden, the fire swarmed up toward the clouds right as a funnel slammed into the ground next to the soldiers. The resulting fire tornado ripped through part of the aliens as sudden bursts of lightning struck the rest. Every time one of the aliens died, they exploded into clouds of dust. The team noticed that one soldier, larger than the rest, seemed to have found the kid and started sneaking around behind him. The kid didn’t seem to notice. After a few seconds, the storm dissipated, and the kid stood up to assess the damage. Just when he thought there were no more soldiers, the large one grabbed his neck from behind and turned him around to face him. After a few seconds, the soldier, just like Clint had said, pulled out a knife and stabbed the kid in the abdomen. Clint stopped the video after the arrow went through the alien’s head. “Now look.” He fast forwarded and then played the video after Clint had already left to take the kid back to the house. They saw the alien’s body laying there for a minute before parts of it turned to dust and fell away until less than half of the body remained. Clint stopped the video there.

“Wow. Ok, that was traumatizing but awesome at the same time. So he can control the weather and he can control fire?” Peter asked.

“Seems like it. We won’t really know until he actually wakes up enough to answer questions. Steve, you put him in medical?” Clint asked.

“Yeah, you mentioned an injury over the phone, so I called in Cho. It was probably a little overkill because all she had to do was give him an IV because he was dehydrated and then put some cream on the bruises on his neck, but he didn’t have any other injuries. He should be fine.”

“That’s good.”

“Ok I’m going to have the guest room prepared for his occupation. Who’s going to offer him the place on the team, hmm?” Tony pronounced.

“Tony,” Clint chided, “We still don’t know if he has any family. If he does, they need to know where he is and that he’s ok.”

“FRIDAY?”

“I’ve run facial recognition, Boss. I have several hits under various identities all over the planet.”

Several eyebrows shot up at this.

“What in the world?” Tony remarked.

The thought on everyone’s minds was, “Who is this kid?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	4. Meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!! Phrases in a foreign language have hyperlinks; just hover over it for translation. Hope you enjoy!!!

**11**

 

11 woke up to a steady beeping and slightly uncomfortable sheets. _Where am I?_ He opened his eyes to find he was in a large, pristine medical room in what appeared to be a large facility. His duffel was nowhere to be seen and he didn’t see anyone else in the room. Out of nowhere a voice spoke and said, “Good, you’re awake. Boss said to tell you when you woke up that dinner is being served. If you wish, you can take a shower and then have dinner.”

 

The mention of food banished his initial shock and 11 croaked out, “I would like food. But, if you don’t mind my asking, who are you?” His throat felt like sandpaper. _When was the last time I had any water?_

 

“I am FRIDAY, Mr. Stark’s personal AI. I run the entire Compound.”

 

“'Mr. Stark.' 'The Compound.' The Avengers Compound?”

 

“That is correct.”

 

11 was too hungry to deal with this at the moment. And he needed a shower. Noticing an IV attached to his arm, he pulled it out and got up. “Lead the way, FRIDAY.”

 

Following some blinking lights, 11 eventually found the showers and enjoyed the bliss of washing the thick grime off himself. After finding an Avengers’ hoodie and sweatpants outside the shower, he made his way to a kitchen area where there were some eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice set up on the counter. He didn’t notice the large group of people lounging in the nearby living room staring at him and proceeded to fill a plate with three eggs, two pieces of toast, and four pieces of bacon. He still didn’t notice them when he sat down at the table separate from them and slowly started to eat his food. He was thinking about the last few days and his chewing gradually slowed until he swallowed. _It’s over. Oh gosh, it’s over. I’m done. My mission is finished. There aren’t any more Mogs on the planet. I’m done. Oh God, it’s over._ He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the tears drop from his face. He dropped his face into his hands and let out a sob of relief.

 

 _____________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Clint**

 

The people looked at each other with concern etched on their faces before Clint stood up and warily approached the kid.

 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok. You’re safe now. It’s over.” He placed a hand on the kids shoulder and the kid let out another sob. Clint hugged the kid close and just let him get the tears out.

 

“Thank you,” the kid whispered shortly. “Thank you for saving my life, for helping.”

 

“You’re welcome, kid. Eat; you haven’t eaten since I found you.” Clint let go of the kid so he could finish his dinner. **(A/N the Avengers were having breakfast for dinner, hence the eggs, bacon, etc.)**

 

“How long has it been?”

 

“Three days, you haven’t eaten or drunk anything for three days.”

 

“Six days.” The kid mumbled before continuing his meal.

 

“What?!” everyone looked at him in shock.

 

“How in the world are you not starving right now? Teenagers eat like crazy!” Tony nearly shouted,  glaring at Peter, who rolled his eyes.

 

 _______________________________________________________________________________________

 

**11**

 

11’s head snapped up and his mouth dropped open a little when he realized who else was in the room. He was quick to regain his composure, though and responded evenly, “I know my limits. I won’t be able to eat more than this no matter how hungry I am.” He stood up and grabbed a cup and filled it up with orange juice and drank the whole thing before sitting back down.

 

They let him eat some more in silence until he finished. Sam was the one to break the silence: “What’s your name, kid?”

 

He hesitated, and debated if he should tell them or not. He remained silent.

 

“Look, kid. We know about the multiple identities. We’re just trying to help,” Clint said gently.

 

11 didn’t want to tell them. No matter how famous these people were, he didn’t know them. How would they react to the fact that he is an alien? To everything about him?

 

“11.”

 

The others looked at each other in confusion before Natasha spoke in a soft voice, “Is that the name you chose, or the name your captors gave you?”

 

The others didn’t seem to have taken this as a possibility before and started asking a ton of questions he didn’t want to give the answers to. Natasha seemed to notice his discomfort and snapped: “All right, everyone, that’s enough.” Everyone went silent immediately, and she spoke in a softer tone to 11, “You don’t have to answer any questions if you don’t want to. We were going to start a movie marathon soon. Star Wars. Peter’s choice. Care to join us?”

 

11 couldn’t remember the last time he had watched a movie—or even really relaxed. It wouldn’t hurt to watch a few movies, right? He nodded, and Natasha patted the spot to her left on the large sofa (Bruce was on her right). As 11 made his way over, everyone accepted Natasha’s declaration and settled in for the marathon.

 

 ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

**Natasha**

 

Half-way through Revenge of the Sith, Natasha noticed the kid’s— _11_ ’s—eyes start to droop.

 

By the beginning of The Empire Strikes Back, he was not-so-subtlety trying to keep from leaning on her shoulder. Natasha smiled; no matter the tough exterior, he was still a kid. She shifted slightly and brought her shoulder an inch closer. He would probably be embarrassed in the morning, but right now he looked almost completely asleep as he rested his head on her shoulder.

 

She smiled and ran her fingers through his long hair and he immediately relaxed into the sensation. “Спокойной ночи, ребенок,” she whispered in Russian. To her surprise, he responded in kind, “Спокойной ночи.”

 

By the end of the movies, she had moved him into a lying position with his head cradled in her lap, running her fingers softly through his hair. Everyone seemed slightly surprised when they saw him asleep and Steve stood up, whispering, “I’ll take him to his room.”

 

Natasha glared at him, “You’re not moving him.”

 

Steve raised his hands in surrender and then joined everyone in heading to bed. Natasha rested her head on Bruce’s shoulder and fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Спокойной ночи, ребенок = Good night, child  
> Спокойной ночи = Good night


	5. Tidbits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter didn't end exactly how I wanted it to but oh well
> 
> Also: 100+ HITS!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

**11**

 

11 didn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed and calm waking up. As he shifted, he felt a blanket he didn’t remember getting move around his shoulders. _Someone must have given it to me during the movies._ He froze when he realized he was still on the sofa and _his head was resting in someone’s lap._ He blinked open his eyes and found the Black Widow—thankfully still asleep—with her head on Dr. Banner’s shoulder. Carefully, trying not to disturb them, 11 extricated himself from the blanket and stood up, stretching his stiff muscles. Looking around, he headed through a hallway until he deemed he was a safe distance away and addressed FRIDAY quietly: “FRIDAY, where is my duffel bag?”

 

“Your bag is in your room.”

 

“My room? I have a room? Why do I have a room?”

 

“Yes, you do. You have a room because the Avengers have discussed recruiting you to the team and wanted to be prepared in case you said ‘yes.’”

 

11 was stunned; _they_ wanted _him_ on the team? A team that had saved the world more than once? Sure, he had saved the world with his team, but they were on another planet now.

              

FRIDAY interrupted his thoughts “I could take you there, if you like.”

 

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Sure.”

 

 _____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Natasha**

 

Natasha blinked awake and looked down to check on 11, only to find he wasn’t there. She felt his spot on the sofa and found it warm, so he must have left recently. Finding Bruce still asleep, she whispered, “FRIDAY, where’s 11?”

 

FRIDAY responded likewise in a whisper, “He asked after his duffel bag so I am currently leading him to his room. You should know, he asked why he had a room, and I told him about the prospective recruitment.”

 

Natasha nodded, knowing FRIDAY could see, “Ok, I’ll bring it up at dinner, give him some time to think about it. Could you get Steve and Peter over here to start on breakfast?”

 

“Of course, Ms. Romanov.” FRIDAY paused. “They are on their way, although, Peter had some choice words for being woken up this early.”

 

“Tell him, ‘Language,’” Natasha snickered and got up.

 

Steve and Peter trod into the kitchen as she was making coffee and mumbled their good mornings. Making their way around the kitchen, the two cooks on the team began preparing a breakfast worthy of several super soldiers. 11 walked in stiffly about half-way through the process and coughed once to make his presence known, "Um, is there anything I can help with?" “Can you cook?” Steve asked. 11 nodded. Steve shrugged and ordered, “Well, get the scones out of the oven and dust them with powdered sugar, then help Peter with the eggs.” Natasha watched 11 open the oven and reach in to grab the tray when she noticed he wasn’t wearing oven mitts. “11!”

 

He pulled out the tray with seemingly no pain and looked at her in confusion: “What? Is something wrong?”

 

Steve said slowly, “Son, how is your hand not burning?”

 

11 looked at the hand holding the tray then back at the Avengers, and burst out laughing. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I should have told you. I’m immune to heat. This can’t hurt me.”

 

Peter looked amazed, and reached out like he wanted to confirm that, yes, 11’s hand wasn’t burning. Natasha was slightly exasperated. “You have to tell us these things; you can’t just go around giving Avengers random heart attacks. It’s not healthy.” 11 at least had the decency to look sheepish and nodded before continuing helping make breakfast. “But, how does it work?” Peter asked curiously.

 

11 whispered not-at-all softly, “Magic.”

 

Tony walked into the kitchen then, looking like he hadn’t slept at all—maybe he hadn’t, not unusual—and headed straight for the coffee maker. After he downed his second cup of coffee and started his third, he finally took notice of who was in the room. “Ooo, new kid can cook! Anything else interesting I should know?”

 

Natasha called out, “He’s immune to heat; nearly gave us all heart attacks by grabbing a hot tray from the oven without mitts.”

 

“Oh? Interesting.” Tony looked intrigued and seemed to store that information away for further study. “Anyway, what’s for breakfast?”

 

“Eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, sausage, _scones”_ Steve said accenting it with a playful glare at 11 “and a lot of all of it. Hope you’re hungry.”

 

“Eh, a little; I’ll join you guys for breakfast.”

 

Soon the team filtered into the dining room, all in various stages of wakefulness, and sat down at the mostly set table. After everyone said their good mornings and helped finish setting the table, they dug in and began eating. Natasha noticed that 11 still didn’t eat a lot of food. _So no enhanced metabolism then._ He seemed slightly uncomfortable and kept flexing his fingers like he was rolling around an invisible ball. “If you’re still hungry, you _can_ get some more food,” she said smiling.

 

He looked slight startled when he responded, “I’m just trying to figure out the etiquette at a table with super powered people.”

 

“What do you mean, kid?” Sam asked.

 

“I mean, is it ok to use your powers to grab food from across the table? Or do you just ask someone to pass the orange juice?”

 

Everyone looked at him then began laughing. “Dude, you’re at a table with superheroes. It’s fine if you use your powers; just don’t mess with other people’s food,” Peter replied easily.

 

11 grinned and the pitcher of orange juice started floating toward him. The rest of the meal passed easily, with many strains of conversations happening around the table, though Natasha noticed 11 didn’t really engage, just listened. As the conversations began dying down, Natasha called to 11, “So. 11. What are your plans for today?”

 

He colored up and shrank a little at everyone’s gaze, but he spoke up nonetheless, “I was just planning to watch you guys train, or, whatever. I’m still kinda sore from all the running.”

 

“Training starts in an hour, we can do some stretches to loosen up your muscles,” she smiled at him.

 

11 put away his dishes and headed toward his room. “Hey, Peter?” Tony signaled, “Could you give him a tour of the place until training time? We don’t want him to get lost.”

 

“Sure!”

 

 _____________________________________________________________________________

 

**Peter**

  

Peter couldn’t keep the smile off his face. They were going to have a new Avenger! Well, most likely. And he was the same age as Peter; they could be like brothers! Shuri was going to freak when she found out he was freaking _immune_ to heat! Ned would probably ask 1,000 and 1 questions and Betty would probably try to calm him down. MJ would definitely not care and Harry would probably be mildly interested.

 

He already knew where 11’s room was (opposite his, next to Wanda’s), so he just walked over and knocked on the door. “Hey, 11! You want a tour of the Compound? I can give you one!”

 

“Just a minute!” Peter heard the sound of a zipper and steps leading toward the door and smiled as 11 opened his door. “All right, ready for your tour?”

 

“Sure.” With his hands clasped behind his back, 11 followed Peter as he showed him the public common area (for parties and such); the hangers; the labs; the outdoor training area and weapons-testing field, which 11 lit up upon seeing; the museum; and then the indoor training room to end the tour. They made good time, just 45 minutes. The others were lounging around, some talking, some warming up, and some setting up equipment. Peter turned to 11 and asked, “So, what do you think?”

 

“This place is awesome! I might possibly be interested in staying here for a little bit, could be fun,” 11 replied with a half-smile.

 

Peter grinned: a new brother. Totally.

 

____________________________________________________________________________________

 

**11**

  

To say this place was huge would be a huge understatement. Sure, 9’s penthouse was freaking massive, but it couldn’t even compare to this! The labs were definitely somewhere he would be visiting often, because 11 was as massive a nerd as his parents were—not that he would admit that any time soon. He spotted Black Widow—Natasha?—dressed in workout clothes and sharpening one of her knives and walked up to her. “Hi! Has it been an hour yet?”

 

“No, but we can start now if you want.”

 

11 nodded, nonchalant on the outside, he was actually pretty excited! He was training with the Avengers! Well, not fully training, but pretty close. He stood a few feet away from Natasha and copied her as she began stretching; he was already pretty flexible, as it is useful in a fight, and he could follow along pretty well with her exercises. His legs felt painful for a long time until the muscles released and then it just felt relaxing. Relieved, 11 thanked Natasha for the exercise and went to the bean bags—why were there bean bags in the gym?—and sat down to watch the Avengers actually train.

 

Peter was sparring with Captain America, which 11 was definitely surprised about. Falcon and the Winter Soldier were wrestling on the mat. Wanda was practicing destroying multiple targets while flying with Vision. Clint was sword-fighting with Natasha. Wait, sword fighting? _Awesome._

 

“Hey, 11, come here for a second!” Peter bid him over. 11 jogged to where Peter and Cap had been sparring a second ago and asked, “Yes?”

 

“Can you fight?” Steve queried.

 

11 nodded; he thought he could see where this was going. “All right, I’m going to set you up against Peter, then. I want to see how well you do.” 11 eyed Peter; he didn’t want to hurt him, but if he could tango with Captain America, he should be fine. “Ok.”

 

11 stepped toward the bench to prepare like his parents taught him: he removed his shirt, grabbed a hair band, and proceeded to blindfold himself with the hair band.

 

Peter asked hesitantly, “Um, what are you doing?”

 

“Getting ready to fight,” 11 responded nonchalantly. Peter shrugged and 11 stepped onto the mat and entered a basic defensive stance. He took a deep breath and calmed his mind, reaching out with his telekinesis to “see” his surroundings. He could feel every particle of dust around him, could sense Peter’s exact position relative to himself, and could see every twitch of his opponent’s muscles. 11 studied Peter’s stance for a second then attacked.

 

Every punch 11 threw, Peter seemed to anticipate and dodge, but _he_ wasn’t hitting 11 either. They flowed smoothly, every punch countered, every swipe avoided, every hold escaped. It was exhilarating as fighting always was. Ultimately though, it ended when Peter aimed a punch for 11’s torso: 11 saw it coming and, instead of dodging it, he twisted, grabbing Peter’s arm and throwing him onto the ground in a secure hold.

 

“Kid, that was crazy,” 11 heard Sam exclaim. When 11 released Peter and took off his blindfold, he found the rest of the Avenger gathered around the mat; he held a hand out to Peter who took it and pulled himself up. “Dude, that was awesome! How did you _do_ that?” Peter asked, awed.

 

11 shrugged, “My parents taught me to fight almost as soon as I could walk. When I was 11 and developed telekinesis, my parents started sparring with me blindfolded to teach me spatial awareness via telekinesis.”

 

“They blindfolded you and fought you?” Peter asked; everyone looked slightly disturbed. 11 nodded slowly.

 

“Abusive parents,” Steve muttered.

 

 _What did he just say?_ “Excuse me?” 11 spoke with a cold fury. His knuckles turned white from how hard he was clenching them. “How _dare_ you? All my parents knew was that we were the very last of our civilization. For all they knew, I would be the last of our race. They knew, if we were discovered, we would be captured, tortured, killed. They did everything in their power to ensure I would be protected and know how to defend myself. They _died_ when I was 12, trying to protect me. _They’re gone!”_ he shouted. “They protected me and now they’re _gone_. And you have the audacity to insult people you didn’t even know? How dare you?” He The temperature tangibly dropped several degrees but 11 ignored it; with angry tears and blue-hot fury, he stormed out of the room and disappeared down the hallway.

 

The Avengers were stunned at the kid’s reaction.

 

“Well, Steve,” Tony said “you messed up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked it!


	6. Heartache*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An emotional one everyone  
> Warning: some MAJOR spoilers from Lorien Legacies, probably  
> Hope you enjoy

11 was furious. _How dare he? How DARE he insult my parents? He didn’t even know them._ “FRIDAY, how do I get to the testing field from here?”

 

“I can direct you to it.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“Steve, seriously, what is wrong with you?” Clint nearly shouted.

 

Steve looked horrified, “I feel so bad. I- I didn’t-”

 

“Next time, think before you speak,” Natasha’s tone was dark.

 

“FRI, where is the kid going?” Tony asked.

 

“He’s at the testing grounds, Boss.”

 

Sam looked concerned: “There are experimental weapons there.”

 

“FRI, pull up footage,” Tony ordered.

 

The present Avengers all turned toward the hologram as it displayed the testing grounds. On it they saw 11 in the center of the field, just standing there. They watched as he lifted his hand and blue flames exploded from his palm, quickly engulfing his arm, then his body. He stretched his arms forward and the tree directly in front of him exploded into shrapnel, the shrapnel flying towards him in a blur. It swirled violently around 11, quickly turning into a flaming cyclone terrible to behold.

 

They didn’t know when he started floating, but now, 11 was fifteen feet off the ground. 11 flung his arms out, hands clenched in fists, and threw the flames surrounding him into a continuous stream in front of him, spinning rapidly as he did.* Everything surrounding him caught fire and burned rapidly; nothing went untouched.

Then, 11 curled up into a tight ball, drawing the fire to his center; with a scream, he released the energy in a devastating wave of fury. The fire disappeared as quickly as it appeared, but the devastation remained. 11 floated for a moment, shoulders sagging, and looked broken as he then sank to his knees and fell limp, silent tears falling down his face. Tony shut down the video. None of the Avengers noticed Natasha had disappeared.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 _They’re gone. They’re gone. They’re gone._ 11 couldn’t think anything else, couldn’t feel anything else. _They’re gone. They’re gone. They’re gone._ Why did they have to be gone? He was alone. His only family was on another planet. _Alone. Alone. Alone._ Why did he have to be alone?

 

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, crying; but when he felt warm arms embrace him, he didn’t hesitate to hug back. He gripped them tightly and sobbed until his throat hurt. The arms felt like his mother’s: slender yet strong—caring. _Gone. Gone. Gone. She’s gone. He’s gone. They’re_ both _gone. Why? Why? Why? Why did they have to be gone?_

 

“Shhh, shhh, I know. I know it’s hard.” A warm voice. “I know it hurts; but they aren’t gone. They’re with you now, watching, comforting you. They still love you. It’s ok to mourn.” He couldn’t cry anymore; there were no more tears. “I can’t promise it will stop hurting one day. Some days, it will hurt more than now. But you _will_ survive; there is hope.” _Hope._ The last thing 11 felt before he fell into an exhausted sleep was a soft kiss pressed into his hair.

 

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

“What are we going to do with this kid?” Sam asked.

 

“He’s an alien, right? That’s awesome!!” Peter exclaimed.

 

“No, it’s not awesome. Remember the alien invasion in New York, huh?” Tony countered.

 

“Thor is an alien,” Peter rebutted.

 

Vision spoke up, “He didn’t outright _say_ he’s an alien. Until he actually confirms it, we shouldn’t assume—”

 

Clint interrupted, “None of this solves what to do with the kid. He obviously has no more family left. He needs people to care for him. I want to adopt him.”

 

“No,” Laura denied. “We already have three kids; and as much as I want to adopt him too, we can’t.”

 

“Then who will? Tony already has Peter. Sam is not fit to raise kids” “Hey!” “Bucky will probably terrify him—no offence” Bucky acknowledged “Steve is still working things out with Sharon—”

 

“I’m going to adopt him,” everyone turned toward Natasha, who was standing in the training room’s entrance.

 

“When did you leave? Never mind. What do you mean ‘you’re going to adopt him’? You want to adopt him?” Tony asked, stunned.

 

Natasha held a silent conversation with Bruce and they seemed to come to an agreement. Natasha nodded, “I’m _going_ to adopt him; if he wants me to, that is.” Her tone left no room for discussion.

 

“So, that’s settled. Now, kid obviously has the making of an Avenger. I say—” “Steve” Natasha interrupted Tony.

 

“Yes?” Steve replied hesitantly.

 

“We need to talk.” The two Avengers left the training room and walked further into the hallway before stopping. “What you said to him was wrong.”

 

“I know. I know! And I feel terrible. It’s just, I heard him say his parents fought him blindfolded when he was 11 and I assumed, I don’t know, that they were doing it to toughen him up, with no thought about how young he was. I didn’t know—”

 

“Exactly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know why they did what they did. And yet, you assumed the worst. Like I said before, next time, think before you speak. If you want to make this right, I suggest you give him some time before addressing it.”

 

Without another word, Natasha turned and reentered the training room.

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

**11**

  

11 woke up to find he was in his room. It was still light out, so he hadn’t been asleep for long. _Either that or I’ve been asleep for a_ really _long time._ He didn’t feel like seeing any Avengers right now, so sitting up, he reached for his duffel bag and pulled a leather pouch and a red glowing stone out from the second smaller pocket.

 

Undoing the drawstrings, 11 emptied the contents of the pouch into his hand. He thought for a moment before tossing the various-sized marbles into the air. At the apex of their flight, the marbles stayed suspended and started revolving around the largest marble, forming a mini solar system. 11 admired the macrocosm before lifting the red stone to his mouth. He spoke into it “Hello?” and waited.

 

After a minute, the macrocosm started spinning faster and drawing closer until the marbles joined into two large globes: one a perfect replica of Earth, the other a perfect replica of Lorien. “11, is that you?”

 

 “Hey, John.”

 

“Dude, you were supposed to break radio silence a week ago. What happened?”

 

11 sighed, “A lot; a lot happened.”

 

**Time Jump_____________________________________________________________________________________________________**

 

“Wow, that’s incredible man. I mean, the Avengers? That’s insane! I _still_ can’t believe we left _just_ before they formed. So, they want you to join them? What did you say?” John asked.

 

“I just needed some time to think about it. Where do I go from here, John? My mission was to destroy the Mogadorian presence on Earth. That’s done. What do I do now? Do I make the trip to Lorien? Do I stay here on Earth? If so, what do I do? I don’t know,” 11 sighed.

 

John was silent for a time before speaking: “I can’t tell you what you should do. I can tell you that most of the jobs here are filled—we have farmers, engineers, scientists—all from the human kids with Legacies. Except for trainers, we could always use more trainers but something tells me you wouldn’t like dealing with a bunch of people older than you who have less experience than you.” He was right about that. “We aren’t far enough into the restoration to be able to focus on much else than survival right now—that includes diplomatic relations with Earth. _But,_ it wouldn’t hurt to have a representative of our race there.”

 

11 thought about it: _A diplomat? No, he just said ‘representative.’ He could represent his race._ “I could do that. But I would still be alone. How are you, Sam, and Malcolm coming on differentiating Loriens and humans?”

 

“We still haven’t had a breakthrough. The sensors you were using to detect Mogadorians should be able to detect Loriens with proper recoding, according to Sam. I don’t know personally. We are definitely still making that a priority, though.”

 

“Oh yeah, by the way, I ran out of Loric salt. Would it be possible to send another shipment,” 11 asked hopefully.

 

John muttered something that sounded like “he used a _full storage-container-worth_ of Loric salt _already?”_ But he said out loud, “Yes, 11, we can send you a shipment. However, we _finally_ found out how to grow them ourselves so we’ll be sending the equipment for you to do so instead of freaking 1000 pounds of the stuff. We’ll also send the materials necessary for a Garde suit. You can design it however you want; the process is detailed with the materials.”

 

11 smiled, “Thanks John. How is everyone there?”

 

“Good, good, 9 and Ella finally got together. Six is pregnant, which _shocker,_ ” the sarcasm is strong with this one, “she and Sam got married two years ago."

 

"What about you and Marina? Hmm? There seemed to be something there."

 

John sighed and Sy could hear the smile in his voice, "We're taking it slow. We were both healing from losing Sarah and Eight, but, now? I think we're starting to move on. Anyway, the construction is progressing beautifully.  _And_ we are all making incredible progress in training the newbies . . . What?! What do you mean ‘he burnt down the training building?!” John spoke away from the macrocosm “Sorry, 11, one of the newbies with Lumen is still having trouble controlling it. I have to go.”

 

“That’s fine. Go be a leader. I love you man, all of you. Tell them that. And . . . thank you; for taking my mind off things.”

 

“I will” John hesitated “11, if you do decide to stay, try to make things work with the Avengers. You get another chance at having a family—a super powered one at that. Most of us don’t get that chance. Think about it. I gotta go, bye!”

 

11 watched the macrocosm separated back into the solar system, thinking: “A new family—that _would_ be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *For this, imagine the scene in How to Train Your Dragon where Toothless pisses off the queen and she throws fire everywhere, hoping to hit Toothless with the stream of fire.
> 
> So adding images won't work for me for some reason, so I'll also be posting this work on Wattpad. If you want to see the art that goes with it, you can see it there. (chapters with art have an asterisk in the title)


	7. Family?*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! So, since posting pictures on AO3 doesn't work for me for some reason, this story is now posted on wattpad.com as well; if you want to see the art I attached to this story, you can check it out there!
> 
> Anyways, new chapter! Hope you enjoy

**11**

  

11 was sitting on his bed, rolling the macrocosm marbles in his hands as he thought about family. Could he start over? Could the Avengers be that for him? Maybe not immediately, but they could. He still didn’t trust them fully—especially Rogers—but he would try.

 

As he was thinking, FRIDAY addressed him, “Mrs. Romanov is requesting entry.”

 

11 smiled; she was nice, friendly. “Let her in, FRIDAY.” The door opened and Natasha entered the room, carrying a tray.

 

“Hey,” she spoke softly, “FRIDAY told me you were awake. Are you hungry?” 11 nodded. “I brought you some food. Here, scoot over.” 11 complied and Natasha sat next to him on his bed, handing him the tray of food. “How did they die? Your parents.”

 

“Why do you want to know?” 11 asked as he began on the tray.

 

“I heard it’s good to talk about this stuff. I don’t know, I’ve never done it; but I’ve heard.”

 

11 ate in silence for a few minutes, deliberating. When he finished the tray, he spoke, “They uh, they died in a raid, I guess you could call it. We were always on the run, always changing names. They couldn’t know we existed, or we would be dead. And, somehow, they found us. I didn’t have many legacies then, just Telekinesis, Photokinesis, and Silvas—generate and manipulate light particles and control plants,” he clarified at her confused expression.

 

“Anyway, yeah, I couldn’t control light very well and Silvas was useless in the desert so my parents told me to hide. There was a field of boulders nearby that I hid among while my parents stayed to fight. I wish, I _wish_ I could have used the boulders to fight but I wasn’t strong enough yet. I was just a kid. They fought until they were overwhelmed, and . . . they died. Trying to protect me. It didn’t turn out meaning anything; they found me soon after but at least they tried. They brought me to their base and started torturing me for information. Asking, ‘Where are the others? What number are you?’ I didn’t know what they were talking about; as far as I knew, I was the last one. I was ecstatic: there were others! I wasn’t the last one!

 

“But they didn't let me dwell on it long; I ended up just trying not to die to torture. Six months. That’s how long they had me. Some of the others found the base and attacked it to get back their Inheritances and the shields guarding my cell went down. That’s when I escaped.”

 

Natasha was silent as she digested the information dump 11 just gave her. After a minute, she scooted closer and pulled 11 into a hug, “I’m sorry you had to go through so much at such a young age. I want you to know, you aren’t alone anymore. You have all of us, if you want.”

 

11 smiled and hugged her back, “I’d like that.”

 

She pulled away from the hug and said, “There are some things we will have to take care of if you’re going to stay here; you can come to the common room when you’re ready, 11.”

 

As she made to leave the room, he called out “Sy.”

 

“What?” she asked, turning.

 

“My name. It’s Vintoran Sy. S-Y. I prefer Sy.”

 

She smiled and nodded before leaving his room.

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Natasha walked into the common room with a slight smile on her face. She nodded to the others and said, “He’s staying.” There were various expressions of approval, including Peter’s “Yes!”

 

“What? I’m literally the only kid on the team; I always wanted a brother and now I get one,” He defended himself.

 

“Where is he? We have a lot to hash out,” Tony asked.

 

“He’ll be here soon; let him have some time to take it all in.”

 

Sy walked in at that moment and every head turned toward him; he hesitated before moving to sit on the ground, placing his satchel next to him. “Um, hi. So I guess Natasha told you already, but, yeah, I’ll stay.” Everyone smiled and started welcoming him to the team, Peter high-fived him, and Clint clapped him on the back, saying, “Welcome to the family, 11.”

 

The kid seemed pensive for a moment, looking to Natasha before speaking, “I wanted to tell you all my name.” Everyone went silent and looked at him with curious expressions. At Natasha’s smile, he said, “My name is Vintoran Sy, S-Y. But, like I told Natasha earlier, I prefer Sy.”

 

Wanda smiled and said, “Welcome to the family, Sy.”

 

“So, obviously, if you are going to be staying with us, we need to take care of some things. How old are you?”

 

“Sixteen.”

 

“Ok, so you will need a legal guardian, we will need to enroll you in school, get some ID, the whole shebang. I just noticed, you have a slight French accent, are you French?” Tony asked, curious.

 

Sy seemed amused, “No, uh, my parents lived most of their lives on . . . on our home planet, and the accent sounds very much like a French accent. And they passed it on to me.”

 

Tony nodded, “Ok then. Well we’ll need to put you into the system, get you an American citizenship. I’ll call Fury, have him help speed along the process. Legal guardian: pick one.”

 

 “What?”

 

“Pick one; you need someone to be your legal guardian. I want you to choose who you want it to be and we’ll go from there.”

 

Sy looked around at the Avengers and noticed Natasha kept her face noticeably blank. Did she not want him to pick her or was she worried he wouldn’t and didn’t want him to know that? He couldn’t really see himself with anyone else. _I mean, Clint is nice but he already has three kids; I can’t do that to him._ “Natasha.” He knew it was the right choice when she broke into a smile; he was happy about that.

 

Sy spoke up before Tony could continue, “Actually, there is something we have to talk about before anything else.” The others looked apprehensive so he blurted out, “I have two pets.”

 

“That’s what you were worried about?” Tony said, almost laughing. “Barnes has a three-legged dog and Loki has a kitten with him whenever he visits. I think you’re fine.”

 

Sy relaxed slightly but said, “They aren’t exactly . . . normal animals. I think it’s just best if I showed you.” He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out . . . an antler? Ignoring their confused looks, Sy held the antler in his hand and just stared at it. “Yes, everything is all right. Yes, I’m staying. They want to see you. No please don’t.” Everyone looked confused and slightly terrified. “Why? Why must you be like this? Seriously? Fine, just get over here, please. I love you two too, but, please, nothing too dramatic.” Sy sighed and put away the antler. Everyone was staring at him. “Um, heh, yeah, they are kind of dramatic.”

 

At their blank looks, he explained, “I can talk to animals, and the antler connects me to my pets no matter the distance.”

 

Peter, with wide eyes, asked, “Can you talk to all animals, or just your pets? What do they sound like? Do they talk in actual words or in the sounds they make?”

 

Everyone was laughing at Peter’s scientific enthusiasm though they seemed just as interested in the answers. Sy responded after a chuckle, “I can talk to all animals. Most of them just communicate with pictures or feelings, but my pets are more intelligent: they can speak in pretty much any language. Whenever I learned a new language, I taught them it as well. The ‘voice’ is unique to each animal, so it’s easy to distinguish when a lot of them are talking at once. Anyway, they should be here in about five minutes so we should head outside.” Sy paused on the way out of the room, “FRIDAY, do you have automated air defense systems that target large unidentified flying creatures by any chance?”

 

“There is no protocol with that specific wording but that situation would fall under the “UFO Protocol.”

 

“Could you disable it for two flying creatures? Just for the next few minutes,” Sy requested.

 

“I would have to confirm that with Mr. Stark as you have not had your profile officially updated to Avenger status yet.”

 

“Go ahead, FRI, I’m interesting in seeing these ‘creatures,’” Tony ordered.

 

“Of course, Boss.”

 

Once everyone made it outside, they turned to look where Sy seemed to be looking and waited. Five minutes later, they heard sounds like large wing beats. One minute after that, two large and absolutely terrifying creatures emerged over the trees. “DRAGONS?!” Peter shouted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you feel about the story!


	8. Chimaera*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter!!!  
> This is also posted on Wattpad; search "Rescue Isi1dur" on Wattpad and it should be the first one  
> Hope you enjoy!!!

**Sy**

 

Sy sighed _again_ and walked up to the dragons as they landed, holding up a hand to each of them, which they touched with their snouts. He thought to them:

 

_I’m sorry I took so long to contact you; I shouldn’t have scared you like that. Are you guys ok?_

_We’re fine._ Reoneptec ground out.

_Why didn’t you contact us? We thought you were dead._ Teblunelov muttered.

 

 _I’m sorry; I really didn’t mean to scare you. I would have called sooner but things went sideways for a little bit. But I’m fine now, really. By the way, I think you are terrifying everyone here._ Sy remarked with a slight smirk.

 

“Ahem.” The three turned to look at the gathered Avengers; they had also drawn the attention of nearly all the military personnel on the grounds.

 

“So . . . dragons,” Tony said.

 

“Um, not exactly; they just wanted to make a dramatic entrance. Guys, can you _please_ turn back now?”

 

The dragons huffed and lay down on the ground. Then they started to change; they shrank in size and lost their wings, their shapes morphing until they were two, knee-high, fox-like creatures, one red one blue.

 

Gesturing, Sy said, “Everyone this is Teblunelov and Reoneptec; I call them Blue and Reon for short.”

 

Bucky’s hand was twitching as he whispered, “They look so soft.”

 

Peter asked, “So what are they?”

 

“Chimaera, they can change into any animal they want. And because they are two little drama queens, they decided to show up as dragons.”

 

“So cool,” Peter’s hand was twitching too, now.

 

“You guys can pet them if you want; their fur looks like glass but it’s soft as silk.” The chimaera growled lowly at Sy’s suggestion. “Oh stop pretending; you know you love it.”

 

They huffed but allowed Bucky and Peter to pet them anyway. “So, is it ok if they stay? They don’t eat much and what food they need they can get from wildlife in the woods.”

 

Tony had a smile on his face as he watched Peter coddling the two animals, “Sure, I guess they can stay. I suggest we head inside, we’re drawing quite a crowd.” Indeed they were; Peter and Bucky looked disappointed but got up anyway and joined everyone in heading back inside.

 

“So, _chimaera_ —I didn’t know that kind of creature existed on the planet,” Wanda said curiously.

 

“They aren’t native to the planet. My— my parents brought them as cubs with them when they came to Earth—about twenty-one years ago. I grew up with them.”

 

“Oh. What were your parents . . . vocations? I don’t know what they would call it . . . wherever you’re from.”

 

“Lorien, my home planet is called Lorien. My parents were scientists—Garde but still scientists.” At her confused look, he continued, “Lorien had two basic societal divisions, Garde and Cepân. Garde were those that developed Legacies, powers. They were the planet’s defenders, warriors. The Cepân were everything else: teachers, trainers, runners of the government. One wasn’t really more important than the other; they were both equally necessary.”

 

She wanted to know more, but he was starting to get uncomfortable saying so much about his past. “So you would be referred to as ‘Garde’?”

 

Sy nodded but remained silent, signaling the end of the conversation.

 

When they got back to the common room, a couple of the Avengers went their separate ways. Tony, Clint, and Natasha stayed back. Tony spoke up, “There’s three months left before school starts, so you won’t have to take Midtown’s test until two months from now. We’ll work out the paperwork, get you in the system. Until then, you train with us. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are training days. The rest of the days are mainly for team bonding; you can do what you want on those days but every night is either movie night or game night.”

 

Sy nodded, “I assume you’ll want to know what’s in my bag?”

 

“I can’t say I’m not curious. What is it made of? We couldn’t open or even damage the material. But, to be honest, we hardly tried.”

 

Sy was slightly put off that they tried to break open the bag but, ultimately, no harm was done. “It’s made of threaded Loralite and charmed to be unbreakable.”

 

“Charmed?”

 

“It’s one of my legacies. I _really_ don’t want to go into that right now; but there are _many_ types of charms. As for what’s in the bag . . . it has to do with my parents.” The “I’m not ready to face that yet” went unspoken.

 

As if Tony could sense his dropping mood, Tony changed the subject “All right, is there anything you like to do: hobbies, pastimes, and the like? We can customize your room here to your liking.”

 

Sy thought for a moment before saying slowly, “I’m not sure. I didn’t really have time for fun most of my life, but I liked making my sword.”

 

“Sword?” Clint perked up. “Can I see it?”

 

Sy looked at his bag with a haunted expression and Clint instantly regretted his question, “I’ll . . . yeah, sure.”

 

Sy didn’t spend long opening the bag; he grabbed the sword and a dagger and closed the bag like it was stinging him. “It’s a katana. And I know it’s unconventional, but I like using it with a dagger.” He held both weapons out to Clint, who took the katana. Natasha walked up and eyed the knife, “Can I?” Sy nodded so she took the knife.

 

Inspecting the sword with wonder, Clint said, “You made this? When?”

 

“About three years ago—I was in China and spent some time apprenticing sword making for fun. They were really shocked at how quickly I learned. It’s charmed as well, so it won’t break or dull—same with the knife. The knife, my parents brought with them from Lorien. It’s blade is made of diamond. Also-” he held out his hand and Natasha gave him the knife “it does this when I am going to fight.” The handle of the knife melted and flowed around his hand, effectively making it impossible to knock the knife from his hand.

 

Tony had his eyes narrowed at the knife, “Is it nanotech? or some kind of liquid metal?”

 

“I guess some kind of liquid metal; my parents never explained it to me,” Sy explained.

 

“All right, we can probably build an extension onto your room for a forge and whatnot, otherwise, anything else you can think of for your room?” Tony reiterated.

 

“A ton of plants,  like vines, flowers, and Rubik’s cubes? Also, I like to read.”

 

“You can go ovee a list of plants you want with FRIDAY later. FRIDAY order three of every type of Rubik’s cube available,” Sy’s eyes widened at this, “and the top 100 highest-rated books on the market for starters.”

 

Sy whispered, “Do you know how many types of Rubik’s cubes exist? And several of them cost hundreds of dollars apiece.”

 

Tony lifted an eyebrow at this, “You do know I’m a billionaire, right? It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

 

Sam called out as he passed by the doorway “Everyone, the Official Avengers’ Video Game tournament will be starting soon, if you want to join!”

 

Clint smiled widely and addressed Sy, “So, you want to join?”

 

Sy looked hesitant, “I never really . . . played video games before.”

 

Clint’s eyes widened and he said mock dramatically, “That is unacceptable; you are coming with me. Come on. No ‘buts’ you are joining us.”

 

Sy looked with pleading eyes at Natasha but she just chuckled. _Cold._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!!!


	9. Letting Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy! Hope you enjoy!!

The next few weeks, Sy spent as much time with each of the Avengers as he could—except for Steve, he mostly avoided Steve if he could. The more time he spent with them, the more he opened up; they learned that besides telekinesis, animal telepathy, and immunity to and manipulation of fire, he could control plants and light—which Natasha already knew. They also learned that his charms were not useful mid-battle, but more like precautions with a single weak-point. According to Sy, each of his powers had a name: telekinesis and animal telepathy were self-explanatory; his fire powers were called “Lumen” and also enabled him to produce light from his palms; plant and light control were called “Silvas” and “Photokinesis” respectively.

 

He was incredibly good at hand-to-hand combat and could hold his own pretty well against Bucky and even Natasha. Sy refused to spar with Steve until Steve had approached him privately so they could work out their differences. No one knew what they said specifically, but after that, Sy was at least cordial toward Steve.

 

For the first month after Sy dropped into their lives, he grew much closer to each of the Avengers, but especially to Bruce and Natasha. Bruce was awkward around Sy initially, but they both quickly bonded over their shared love of biological and chemical sciences.

 

Natasha and Sy were often found sparring with knives for fun, both of them enjoying the physical challenge. They watched movies together, and did gymnastics—which he was surprisingly good at—together. Then, one month before school started, Natasha found Sy sitting on the roof of the Compound, watching the sunset. Curiously, he had his satchel next to him; he normally never touched it unless it was to move it to a different place in his room.

 

She approached him carefully and sat down with him, facing the sunset. Neither of them spoke; they just admired the natural beauty.

 

Sy broke the silence, “My parents came here twenty-one years ago for some research. They wanted to see how well certain Loric artifacts would work this far from Lorien as well as the kinds of strains they could take. They had no idea they would never see their families alive again. About one year after they arrived, they received an overwhelming number of emergency transmissions from Lorien. They couldn’t do anything about them; it takes a year for a passenger vessel to make the trip between Earth and Lorien. They could only sit and listen as their people died trying to keep the invaders from taking over the planet. When the silence hit, they knew, they knew everyone was gone.

 

“So they disappeared. They had been in the same laboratory for a year, but they couldn’t do that anymore: if the invaders went looking for Loriens on Earth, they would have found my parents easily then. They spent four year constantly on the move before I was born; they carried me into that life. They taught me about my heritage, about my origins. They taught me all the knowledge of Lorien they could remember; it helped that they had a decent digital archive with them. They trained me to fight too.” There were tears in his eyes as he spoke. Natasha remained silent.

 

“Once I started developing Legacies, they taught me how to use them—also how to figure out future Legacies on my own if- if they died.” His voice cracked at that.

 

“I know they’re gone,” his voice was so small “I know they are, rationally. But that bag—it feels like if I open it, if I use anything inside it other than what I normally use, I’ll be leaving them behind. They were the last ones to use everything in that duffel bag. Nearly everything is just the way they left it. I miss them so much.” The tears were streaming down his face now, but he stared straight at the duffel, as if he was afraid it was going to disappear if he blinked.

 

He reached out, hands shaking, toward the bag and dragged it towards himself. “I love you, Mom, Dad. You said you wouldn’t be there for me all the time; that I would have to move on one day.” His voice broke and whatever else he was going to say died in his throat as he let out a sob, opening the bag.

 

Through the tears, he pulled out item after item and explained its use to Natasha; it helped to explain to someone else, like his parents did for him. It took more than an hour but Natasha stayed because he needed her to. Because she wanted to.

 

He was still weeping after he had emptied the duffel, so she pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back soothingly. She hadn’t said a word the entire time; he didn’t need someone to talk, just someone to listen. So, she listened.

 

She listened as he described their faces. She listened as he told funny stories from his childhood: how Blue and Reon both turned into tiny geckos and sneaked with him to his first day of school because he was scared of being away from his parents; how his parents celebrated with him when his first Legacy manifested. She even listened to the silence when he was just, remembering. The more he talked, the less depressed he looked, until he was crying from laughter at a story that involved Reon shaped like a lion-headed lizard and a prank on an unfortunate bully.

 

It was midnight before they decided to head inside. He packed each item reverently back into the bag and stood there awkwardly for a moment before crushing her in a hug: “Thank you” he whispered “thank you for being here, for listening.”

 

She smiled and pressed a kiss into his hair “You’re welcome; I’m glad I could help.” She never thought she would have kids, but now, holding this child, she felt like she could. She would do everything she could to make sure _her kid_ would always have a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments!


	10. Terrible Mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tenth chapter!!!  
> I hope you guys enjoy!!!

No one knew what happened, but Sy just seemed happier one day. He was less morose whenever he was with them, and even started talking more about his past. Not much, he was still having a hard time opening up to anyone besides Natasha and Bruce, but it was a start.

 

Everyone also grew incredibly attached to Reon and Blue. The two chimaeras, despite their half-hearted grumbling, did indeed enjoy petting and cuddling; it was not uncommon to find them curled into Sy’s side during a movie night. They were extremely intelligent and seemed to enjoy the movies almost as much as everyone else did. They also especially took a shine to Peter and Bucky and could often be found playing energetically with them. Bucky’s dog was at first hesitant about them, but they learned to get along just fine at Bucky’s assurances.

 

Every training day, Sy joined in and participated in team exercises. He picked up on things quickly and seemed used to being part of a team. It wasn’t long before he was the best swordsman on the team, much to Clint’s annoyance, as he trained almost daily with Sy in that area.

 

Sy was a natural with the sword. Everything seemed to make sense and flow when he was holding a sword and everyone could see how comfortable he was with it. One day, Clint made the mistake of suggesting Sy train with the knife alongside the sword if that was how he was used to fighting; Clint couldn’t him fight for more than 30 seconds each match when Sy took him up on the offer. It could be terrifying how calm he seemed with the two weapons. Then, one day, all hell broke loose.

 

Not really, but if you asked any of the Avengers—besides Peter, he was part of the problem—it was horrifying.

 

It all started when Peter’s friends got home from their respective family vacations. He had invited them to spend the rest of the summer at the Compound, and they, of course, agreed. Needless to say, they were surprised to find a teenage boy, not Peter, sitting on the sofa in the common room.

 

“Who are you?” MJ asked, getting straight to the point.

 

The boy looked up at them and smiled, “You must be Peter’s friends; I’ve heard a lot about you.”

 

“That doesn’t answer the question,” Harry retorted.

 

The boy got up and offered his hand to the other teens, “Sy.”

 

“Why would we sigh?” Ned asked.

 

Sy burst out laughing and shook his head, “No my name, it’s Sy. S-Y. I’m sort-of an Avenger-in-training.”

 

MJ nodded and went to sit down on the comfy chair.

 

Ned’s eyes widened comically and he rushed forth, “Whoa, you have powers? What kind of powers? Can you fly? Do you have super strength? Can you—“

 

“Ned, let him talk. You’re not giving him any room to answer the questions,” Betty laughed. “We didn’t even introduce ourselves. I’m Betty.” She said that last part to Sy.

 

“Harry; that is MJ” he shook Sy’s hand and went to sit down next to MJ; she pinched him for taking up part of her seat but he just laughed and kissed her cheek. She pulled the book further up in front of her face, but Sy could see the hint of a smile.

 

“I’m Ned,” he shook Sy’s hand, “and seriously, do you have powers? What kind of powers?”

 

Everyone looked interested—except MJ, she kept reading her book—and Sy contemplated for a moment. “I have quite a few powers, but the ones I use the most are Telekinesis, Animal Telepathy, Lumen, Plantae, Photokinesis, and Charms.”

 

“Charms?” huh so MJ was listening.

 

“Yeah, there are many charms I can cast, but they are mostly in the field of protection and sealing: like, keeping people from dying and keeping a container from being opened by anyone except the person its ‘tied’ to. It’s not exactly ‘magic’ but pretty close.”

 

“What’s ‘Lumen’?” Betty asked.

 

Sy grinned and held up his palms, shining his Lumen toward the ceiling. Ned’s mouth dropped open and be breathed out, “So cool.”

 

“Useful for finding your keys in the dark, I guess,” MJ was thoroughly unimpressed.

 

Sy grinned and set his hand on fire. Ned screeched and backed away several steps. “Dude, dude, your arm’s on fire!”

 

“I know” Sy replied nonchalantly “Lumen makes me immune to heat, so this isn’t a problem. Here” he extinguished the fire “feel my hand.” He held out his hand toward Ned, who looked at him like he was crazy, “You want me to burn my hand?”

 

“Your hand won’t burn; I’m immune to heat, so that fire didn’t even raise my temperature. Feel.” Ned tentatively placed a finger on Sy’s hand and his mouth dropped open, “It’s not even abnormally warm! Dude, that is awesome!”

 

MJ grinned devilishly, “Do you like pranks?”

 

And that’s how it started: first, the Avengers found Sy lying, seemingly unconscious, on the floor of the training room, _on fire._ Everyone—except Natasha and Peter—forgot about his fire immunity and freaked out, rushing for the fire extinguisher and trying to call Cho—who was aware of the prank—to treat Sy’s “third-degree burns.” Sy had burst out laughing at that part and everyone was _not_ amused.

 

Another time, Clint went to get suited up for a heavy-duty training session only to find all his gear colored a vibrant pink. He accused Sam and Bucky of dyeing it and refused to wear it until Natasha threatened him with no video games for the rest of the vacation unless he “got his butt in here for training.” Everyone spent the entire training session trying—rather unsuccessfully—not to laugh at how ridiculous Clint looked. Only after the session was done, did Sy stop manipulating the light reflecting off Clint’s armor and let it revert back its natural dark purple. Needless to say, everyone burst out laughing and Clint was not amused.

 

Only when MJ planned a prank did things _really_ get terrifying. The team was up late watching movies one night. The teens had elected not to join them. When everyone got up to go to bed, they all herded into the hallway leading toward their bedrooms. At first, they didn’t notice anything was wrong, until Sam noted that the lights seemed to be very dim. According to FRIDAY they were at their normal power, but it really seemed to be getting dark in the hallway the further they went along, until it was nearly pitch black.

 

Everyone was on edge and nervous, and when they turned a corner, Bucky screamed. Sy was floating there, cross-legged, with slow-moving purple flames moving across his body occasionally. His face looked dark and evil except for his eyes, which were glowing with orange flames leaking out of them. Several knives were floating around him, seemingly in zero-gravity. Some were bumping into the walls, some were sharpening each other, and others were just floating there. When Sy looked up, all the knives pointed toward the terrified Avengers—except Natasha, nothing really scared her anymore—and Sy spoke with an un-earthly voice, “Who dares enter my domain and disturb my rest? Trespassers must prove their worthiness or die.” At that the knives flew at a blinding speed toward the Avengers, who were too shocked to move and simply shut their eyes, waiting for their end. Nothing happened. They slowly opened their eyes and found the hallway to be lit normally. There were no knives and Sy was nowhere to be found.

 

Sam looked like he was ready to hurl and managed to choke out, “Did- did you guys see that too? Or was I just hallucinating?”

 

Only Steve with his super hearing could pick up Sy and the other teens laughing hysterically in his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you like and didn't like so I can try to improve!


	11. Name, Please

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Hope you enjoy! Also, if you think I am moving too fast or too slow with the progression of this story, let me know. I sort-of have an idea of where I want to go with this story, but getting there can be challenging.
> 
> Words in a foreign language have links attached, just hover over them to see what they mean

“Hey, Sy?”

 

“Hey, Tony!”

 

“Ok, so I know at the beginning of the summer, I said we would get you into the system, et cetera, et cetera. Buuut I forgot, so we’re going to need a name. What do you want? Vintoran Sy or something more . . . human maybe?”

 

“I want to use my name. I don’t want to use it publicly yet, but when I do, I want to be able to use my real name. Maybe for the school we can use a fake name or something, but I will at some point want to use my real name.”

 

“Ok, so what name, then?”

 

“I’ll get back to you later.”

 

As Tony left Sy’s room, Sy thought about what he would call himself. He was used to using fake names from literally all his life doing so, but this was different. If this arrangement worked out, he would be here for the next two years: far longer than he has ever stayed at a school before. John? No, 4 already had that one. Timothy? Nah, too childish; plus, he already used that in New York. Jacob? Nope, used that one already too.

 

Frustrated, Sy headed to the gym to get his mind relaxed so he could think better. He went through some stretches then started jogging on a treadmill. It was designed to accelerate with the user so, before he knew it, Sy was running at 60 mph. and it felt invigorating.

 

After thirty minutes, he started slowing down and got off the treadmill, and he still hadn’t gotten anywhere with his name.

 

“Hey.” Sy started; he hadn’t heard Natasha walk in, he had been so focused on his dilemma.

 

“Hey, Nat.”

 

“You ok? You look frustrated,” she asked, as she sat down next to him.

 

“Yeah, I’m just trying to think of a fake name I can use for Midtown. I don’t want to use something I’ve already used before, and I can’t think of anything. Maybe Symon for a first name, but I can’t think of a good last name.”

 

“Hmm . . . Walkers?”

 

“Used it.”

 

“Williams.”

 

“That too.”

 

“Briggens.”

 

“Surprisingly, I have actually used that one too.”

 

Natasha huffed out a laugh and thought for a while.

 

Sy hesitated before asking, “Can I use Romanov?”

 

She looked at him in surprise, but he just looked at the ground, flushed. “I mean, you’re sort-of like my mom. My guardian, right? Would you mind if I used that? Never mind, you probably would. I’m sorry—”

 

“I don’t mind.” Natasha spoke softly. “I’m happy you see me that way. To be honest, I’ve seen you like my son for a while; I just didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

 

Sy looked at her and smiled before crushing her is a hug, “Thanks . . . Mom.”

 

Natasha’s breath hitched at the name: she was a mom. She had a son. She was going to cry.

 

“I’m going to tell Tony.”

 

Sy got up and left the training room, leaving Natasha with her feelings.

 

Bruce walked in then and said, “Hey, Nat, I was looking for you. I was wondering . . . if . . .” His voice trailed off as he noticed the tears in her eyes. “Nat, are you ok? What happened?”

 

Natasha stopped herself from crying but her voice was still shaky when she said, “He called me ‘Mom.’ He thinks of me as his mom.”

 

Bruce’s mouth dropped open for a moment before he grinned widely. “We both knew we could never have kids but I never banished the idea of adopting. I saw how you were with Clint’s kids; I knew you could be a mom.” He walked over to her and enveloped her in a hug, “Congratulations.” She smiled into the hug and held him tighter.

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

Tony raised his eyebrows a bit at the name but didn’t question it and left the room.

 

Three days later, at breakfast, he slapped down in front of Sy’s plate a New York ID with the name “Symon Romanov” along with a stack of papers for the Midtown admission test. “You have to do the test within the next few days so we can send it in in-time. That ID is ‘real.’ You can use it until you’re ready to . . . reveal yourself, then we can get you one with your real name on it.”

 

Sy smiled while studying the ID, “I could have made this myself you know,” he said wryly. Then he looked up at Tony sincerely, “Thanks, Tony.”

 

Tony shrugged, “No problem, kid.”

 

Sy took the test after breakfast and handed it to Tony three hours later. His eyebrows lifted, “You’re done already?”

 

Sy shrugged, “It was easy.”

 

“Those were placement tests, _plural_ , to see how much you know, you little show-off.”

 

Sy grinned at that and shrugged again before moving to lie down on the couch and take a nap.

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

Natasha was practicing her knife-throwing in the training room, and Peter may or may not have been practicing his knife-dodging at the same time. Tony would have a fit if he found out. “Хорошо, Маленький Паук, этого достаточно на сегодня. Примите душ, и давайте посмотрим, что делают все остальные.”

 

Peter nodded, exhausted, while he headed for the shower “Ок мама паук.”

 

Natasha took her own shower and changed before heading for the common room. She smiled softly when she saw Sy taking a nap on the sofa and went to the refrigerator to grab some food.

 

Peter walked in shortly after her, looking like he wanted to collapse. Natasha continued making her sandwich before she heard Peter call out, “Natasha, I think Sy’s having a nightmare. Should I wake him up?” He sounded worried; every one of them had nightmares from one trauma or another, and from what Sy’d told her, he had plenty of traumas.

 

“Is it severe?” she asked abandoning her food. Just as she asked that, a piercing scream ripped from Sy’s mouth. “Wake him up!”

 

Peter shook him, trying to wake him up, before he jumped back in time to avoid a slash from Sy’s knife. Sy jumped off the couch and landed in a crouch—on the ceiling. His dagger was melted around his hand and his other arm had turned to metal. “Sy, I need you to calm down. You’re safe. No one’s hurting you. You’re safe. It was a nightmare,” Natasha tried to calm him down.

 

Sy’s eyes came into focus as he realized where he was, and he dropped off the ceiling into a sitting position on the couch. Taking deep breaths, he dropped the knife and let his head fall into his hands.

 

After a moment, Natasha moved to sit next to him and rubbed his back soothingly. He leaned into her shoulder and muttered, “Sorry, Mom.”

 

“Hey, don’t apologize; we all get them. Do you want to talk about it?”

 

Sy took a shaky breath and she thought he was going to refuse, but he started slowly, “It was about the torture. The Mogadorians—the ones that killed my race—they don’t . . . don’t use normal torture methods; there are several kinds but they mainly used one on me. They chain you to a table that turns you upright—your weight held by your arms and the restraints digging into your calves. There are these tubes, by your wrists,” Sy shuddered, “the tubes release a gel, or something, that slowly runs down your wrists. I don’t know what it does: slowly eats your body away like an acid or burns like fiery needles. It feels like every single pain receptor is being activated at once. Once the session is over, the gel retracts into the tubes, ready for the next session.

 

“The furthest it ever got was my elbows; they were trying to get information out of me that I didn’t know and it _hurt,_ so much.” Sy wasn’t crying, just staring into space. “My nightmare—it doesn’t believe they stopped at the elbows. It keeps going until my entire body is burning worse than actual flames. And it won’t stop. It never does. Until I wake up. Sometimes it goes for hours . . . There are other dreams, but this is one of the worst.”

 

"That's where you got the scars on your arm?"

 

Sy nodded.

 

“That will never happen again, if I have anything to say about it,” Natasha stated firmly.

 

“I know” he gave an empty smile “maybe my mind will know one day too.”

 

They spent the rest of the day watching movies and eating ice cream. Peter, obviously, started asking how Sy walked on the ceiling and turned to metal.

 

“Snap, I didn’t mean to ximic that,” Sy exclaimed.

 

“Ximic?”

 

“It’s one of my Legacies. I can copy any Legacy I have seen. Before the others left, I promised I wouldn’t ximic any of their Legacies unless it was necessary and I didn’t mean to ximic 9’s anti-gravity, I must have done it in my panic.”

 

“You literally just gained a new superpower because you were scared? How many do you have?”

 

“Twenty-four, now twenty-five.” Peter’s mouth dropped open at that. “Are you serious?! You’re not kidding me right now? And you could have _more?!”_

 

Sy nodded.

 

“Dude, how many of those are useful for pranks?”

 

“Probably around 14—I’ll tell you more about them later. Let’s watch the movie.” Sy shushed him.

 

“You’d better,” but he watched the movie anyway.

 

Natasha was shocked to say the least but she was glad Sy had his mind off the nightmare at least. She’d have to talk with him some more about his powers at some future date but that could wait. Right now, she’d enjoy spending time with _her son._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Хорошо, Маленький Паук, этого достаточно на сегодня. Примите душ, и давайте посмотрим, что делают все остальные.” Means "Well, Little Spider, that's enough for today. Take a shower, and let's see what everyone else is doing."
> 
> "Ок мама паук." Means "Ok, mama spider"
> 
> Let me know what you liked or didn't like so I can improve!


	12. Thunder*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly a filler chapter; it sucks, I'm sorry.

Two weeks before school started, Thor showed up. He brought Loki and Brunhilde with him and, suffice it to say, they were surprised at the new child with the Avengers.

 

“Avengers! We have arrived; sorry we are later than we had hoped to come. Who is this child?”

 

The Avengers noticed Sy seemed to turn into a different person: while he had just been a happy boy bantering as they trained, he now turned cold and reserved as the Asgardians walked into the room.

 

“Your Majesties,” Thor was a little surprised at the title, but Loki simply narrowed his eyes at Sy.

 

“You aren’t human, are you?”

 

Sy shook his head. “No, I’m not. Do you remember the Loriens?” he asked evenly.

 

Thor looked amazed, “You’re a Lorien?”

 

Loki scoffed, “The Loriens are extinct, Thor. Do not be fooled.”

 

“We are not extinct. My parents were off-planet during the annihilation and ten children Garde with their Cepâns escaped in two ships. Or did Heimdell not tell you this? Did he even tell you we were being attacked?” Sy grew more and more hostile as he spoke. The Avengers thought to intervene but Loki shook his head subtly. This was not a matter in which they should interfere.

 

Thor was shocked and responded, “Heimdell alerted us. We were preparing to aid you—”

 

“We were your allies!” Sy interrupted Thor, roaring. “Where was Asgard when the Mogadorians invaded?! Where was Asgard when my people were slaughtered by the millions?! Did Odin even plan on honoring our alliance; or did he just want our aid whenever the Frost Giants wanted war?”

 

Thor looked appalled, “We were amassing our armies! We were prepared to defend you but my father reported to the nation that the Loriens were driven to extinction before we could aid them!”

 

“Then why didn’t you fulfill the terms of our alliance and challenge the Mogadorians?” Sy’s tone was cold.

 

“What would you have had us do, child? Slaughter the entire Mogadorian race?” Loki asked, amused.

 

“It would not have been unwarranted. Do not refer to me as ‘child’; I have been appointed as representative of my people, and you will refer to me as such a position warrants.” Sy took a deep breath and exhaled through his nostrils before straightening. “I heard what happened to Asgard. Lorien is in no position to even attempt to rebuild diplomatic relations with Asgard, but the alliance was never officially dissolved. While you cannot expect our . . . relationship to have the same level of cordiality as it once did, we do not wish to destroy our chances at friendship. Both of our peoples lost our planets; we cannot afford to throw away allies.”

 

Thor was stunned. This representative had every right to declare Lorien enemies of Asgard for his father's actions and was instead deciding to remain allies. “I am extremely grateful for your decision, ambassador. I will strive to undo the wrongs done by my father in our relationship. May I know your name?”

 

Sy inclined his head, “Vintoran Sy, your majesty.”

 

Thor offered, “If I understand correctly, there are twenty others besides yourself. If they require sanctuary, I would be honored to have them stay with my people in New Asgard, here on Earth.”

 

“You misunderstand, but it is no fault of yours. All the Cepâns died more than four years ago, as did five of the ten Garde that escaped. As far as we know, there are only six of us left in the universe.” Thor looked pained at Sy’s words.

 

“Six—then I assume your parents . . .” Sy nodded. “I’m sorry. May I ask: how did they die?” The other Avengers looked interested in this, only Natasha knew what had happened. “Thor, let’s not get into that right now,” she interjected. Sy looked at her thankfully. “We were going to start a movie night after training. Would you care to join us?”

 

“Only if Vintoran is comfortable with it,” he looked toward Sy hopefully.

 

Sy sighed and nodded, relaxing somewhat, “Yeah, I’m fine if you join. I meant it when I said we didn’t want to destroy a chance a friendship.”

 

Thor smiled widely, relieved, and headed to his room to change out of his armor.

 

Loki watched silently as the Widow embraced Vintoran Sy. He didn’t understand what she said to him but he did hear his response, “Yeah, Mom, I’m fine. I just, wasn’t expecting to see them any time soon.” To say Loki was surprised would be an understatement. He had never pegged Romanov to be maternal but clearly he had been mistaken. Intriguing. He wondered what Legacies the child had: would they be useful in pranks? He’d have to ask Peter about it later. For now, though, he would join in on ‘movie night’; it was a surprisingly relaxing tradition.

 

_____________________________________________________

 

In the two weeks before school started, Sy refreshed his memory on Junior-high material. It was distracting to have the Asgardians at the Compound with them, but he tried not to let himself grow bitter toward them.

 

His parents hadn’t told him about Asgard until the Battle of New York took place. They didn’t want Sy to be angry toward Asgard for not aiding them; they couldn’t stop him from being angry about it, as much as they tried. But he would try to forgive them, if only to honor his parents. Plus, it would be hard to be an Avenger without working with Thor and Loki at some point. Loki, from what Peter had said, wasn’t that bad. Apparently, he was very much aware of gen z culture and memes and vines. Also, pranks, because you can’t forget pranks.

 

One day before school started, Sy was lounging with the Avengers and Peter’s friends in the common room when he saw his macrocosm glow in his pocket. “Sy, what’s that?” Sam asked.

 

“It’s my macrocosm; it’s how I communicate with the others since they’re on Lorien right now.” He pulled the pouch and transmitter from his pocket and emptied the marbles into his hand, tossing them into the air. The Avengers watched, amazed, as they floated in a mini solar system that quickly melded into the two large spheres. As Sy spoke into the red stone, it glowed blue, “Hello?”

 

“Hello, 11? You there?” 9 spoke.

 

“Yeah, and it’s Sy again, from now on. I’m here; so are the rest of the Avengers.”

 

“Dude, are you serious?!”

 

“Yep. Everyone, say hello to 9. 9, this is everyone.”

 

“Dude, I’m so jealous. You’re an Avenger now? Seriously? Not fair.”

 

“I do believe you called for a reason, fanboy,” Sy snarked.

 

“Oh, yeah, right. I just wanted to tell you the exact date the supply transport will be arriving. We sent it close to three months ago, and Malcolm said it should arrive the second week of December, so be sure to turn on your homing beacon three days before then. Anyway, any of you Avengers want to hear some embarrassing stories about my little brother?”

 

“Goodbye, 9.”

 

“Wait, no, don’t cut me off—” Sy held out his hand and the macrocosm split into the separate marbles before falling into his palm.

 

“That. Was. Awesome. How does it work? What holds them up in the air? Is it magic? The quality was so clear; was he really on another planet?” Ned rambled.

 

Peter interrupted him, laughing, “Dude, let him talk.”

 

Ned shut up and Sy spoke, “I don’t know how it works. It’s probably magic. Yes, he was really on another planet.”

 

“And the transport he mentioned?” Clint asked.

 

“It’s carrying some materials I can’t get on Earth. No weapons or anything, just something so I can make a Garde suit and some Loric salt—it’s like an energy pill; that’s how I was able to survive on the run for three days straight.”

 

“Do you have any of this salt left? I would like to study it,” Bruce asked, intrigued.

 

“Unfortunately, no. I used the last of it that day,” Sy replied apologetically. “However, I do have something else you can study.” He left the room and returned shortly later with the water stone and handed it to Bruce. “Just don’t scratch or damage it in any way.”

 

“What is it?” Tony asked.

 

“Figure it out.” Natasha smiled at that.

 

“What’s so funny Romanov?”

 

“I know you’re not going to figure it out without help,” she laughed.

 

“And how do you know that?”

 

“Sy showed me everything in his bag.”

 

Tony made offended noises at this, “No fair! What does it do? Tell me!”

 

Bruce studied the crystal closely, “Is it dangerous?” Natasha snorted and burst out laughing when Sy replied innocently, “It can be.”

 

“Now I wanna know what this is,” Sam interjected.

 

“Thor, Loki, do you two know what this is?” Clint asked. Thor was grinning widely and Loki was barely holding back a smirk. “Yes, we know what that is,” Thor replied.

 

“Well, tell us!” Tony shouted exasperated; he was tapping the cube against his palm, holding it up to the light, pointing it at people, to no avail.

 

Loki spoke back smugly, “Well, we could, but that wouldn’t be very fun, would it?”

 

Tony huffed and mumbled incoherently, still trying to ‘activate’ the cube.

 

“Here, let me see, Dad.” Tony tossed the cube to Peter, who looked at it closely. “It looks like it’s moving but it doesn’t feel like it. It’s almost like—” he looked at Sy and his mouth dropped open before he burst out laughing, “Oh my gosh, they will never figure this out. That’s hilarious.” Everyone looked more confused than before and Bucky held out his hand, “Let me see that.” He studied it and quietly mumbled, “Moving,” then shook it and watched it react.

 

“Give it here, Barnes. You’re not a scientist,” Tony snarked.

 

“Stark, your kid figured it out before you did.”

 

“So? He’s a genius; let me see it,” Tony took it from Barnes and looked at it again. “Hmm,” he peeked at Sy before popping it in his mouth; instantly, he spit it out and began coughing wildly. “Oh, so _that’s_ how it’s dangerous,” he managed to choke out; Peter burst into laughter again.

 

“Tony, are you ok? Is it poisonous,” Wanda asked, concerned.

 

“It’s water; the only danger is choking on it,” realization dawned on the other Avengers they started chuckling as well. Wanda looked intrigued, “Let me try.” She picked it up and held it to her lips and started drinking. After a moment, she exclaimed, “This is the best-tasting water I have ever had! How does this work?”

 

Sy shrugged, “Magic.”

 

While all the Avengers took a drink from the Water Stone, Sy slipped next to Loki and whispered, “If they’re getting this excited over a Water Stone, I wonder how they would react to the other artifacts.”

 

Loki simply gave an amused smirk in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you like or don't like so I can improve, and leave kudos if you liked it!


	13. First Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low everyone!! New chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Sy woke up on the first day of school nervous. It wasn’t the thought of going to a new school—he was used to changing schools regularly—no, it was the thought that, if all went well, he would be going to this school until he graduated. He already had friends that went there but it would be cool to gain some more; why not, right?

 

He didn’t have to keep a low profile anymore; 1) this was a school for geniuses (this, Stark forgot to mention until yesterday), 2) he wasn’t trying to keep off the Mogs’ radar anymore and 3) he didn’t have to be afraid of making friends. Maybe he could join some clubs? _Maybe actually get to school first,_ Sy thought with a grin.

 

The team had moved to the Tower for the school year, and to Sy’s shock, Tony had incorporated a forge to his room at the Tower as well. How he hid the smoke from the hearth was a mystery to Sy, but he decided not to dwell on it.

 

“Do you want us to go with you?”

 

“No, Reon, I’ll be fine. I appreciate it though,” Sy gave Blue and Reon each one final pat before striding to the elevator.

 

Happy dropped Peter and Sy off at the school and Peter led him to the Principal’s office to get him checked in. Natasha had wanted to be there but knew it would lead to too many questions they weren’t ready to give out yet.

 

After the whole “Welcome to Midtown” speech by Principal Morita, Sy followed Peter to their first class—English III—as they had the same schedule. “Everyone, we have a new student joining us this year. Say hi to Symon Romanov. Would you care to tell us a little bit about yourself?”

 

Sy stood up and addressed everyone “Hi, I’m Symon, I like Rubik’s cubes and biological chemistry” and sat down. Keep it short, not too many details.

 

“We’re glad you joined our class, Symon. Now, everyone, we will be going over this review sheet to see what you remember from last year and build off of that for today.” The rest of the class was spent refreshing the students’ memories.

 

Most of his classes until lunch were like that: teacher acknowledges Sy, Sy tells a little about himself, the class reviews. A couple teachers had commented on his slight French accent, and he told them his parents moved around a lot so no, he wasn’t French; he just got the accent from his parents.

 

Lunch time rolled around and after Sy got his tray, he looked around to see where his friends were eating and found them sitting at a table separate from everyone else. As he made his way over, he saw some jerk pour a Styrofoam cup of water over Peter’s head with a sneer. Furious, Sy focused his hearing on the bully’s low words, “You may think you’re a hot-shot with that fancy Stark-internship, Penis Parker,” he spat, “but you’re still just a nobody. I don’t care what they said, charity case, you’re still a loser. Welcome back to high school.”

 

Sy walked up next to the jerk, and commented off-handedly, “Hey, dude, I have no idea how, but you’re shirt’s on fire,” and proceeded to enjoy watching said jerk stop, drop, and roll, before running to the water fountain and splashing water on his back. Sy ignored him after that and ate his lunch.

 

Ned looked like he was trying not to burst out laughing and MJ had a look of approval on her face. “Dude,” Peter whispered, clearly unhappy, “you could have seriously injured him. Why did you do that?”

 

“The _abruti_ would have been fine, I would have extinguished the flame before he got seriously injured, relax.”

 

Betty stared at Sy, “Do you speak French?”

 

He responded slowly, “Yes I do.”

 

“What did you call him?” she looked much too amused for this.

 

“I called him a jerk,” he shrugged.

 

“How many languages do you speak, dude?! That’s awesome!” Ned was, characteristically, overexcited.

 

“All of them? I’ve sort-of been traveling all over the world for my entire life so I kinda had to.”

 

“ALL OF THEM?! Dude, you _have_ to help me with Spanish, it’s a pain in the butt once you get to Spanish III and it would be _so_ helpful.”

 

“I mean I won’t help you cheat on a test but I definitely can help with homework and such.”

 

Ned rolled his eyes, “Of course I don’t want to _cheat on a test_ , just some help with lessons and whatnot.”

 

Harry nodded and smiled, “It would be helpful, we would pay you for your help of course.”

 

Sy put on a mock-offended face, “What do you take me for, a bad friend? Of course I’ll help. And forget the pay; I’m not exactly hurting for money.”

 

“Oh yeah, being taken in by the Avengers, you must be rolling in cash,” everyone laughed good-naturedly at Ned’s jab.

 

“Nah, nah, I was well off before the Avengers. You’d be amazed how many bank accounts you can find tied to aliens hiding on a planet that uses the monetary system,” Sy shrugged and finished his lunch, moving to get up.

 

“Um, Sy, how rich are you?” Betty asked, curious.

 

Sy looked at his friends and saw them all staring at him, “I . . . don’t . . . know? I hacked the database whenever I attacked a base, and there was always some money hidden in the code, so very?”

 

Ned burst out laughing and whisper-shouted, “And you let Tony Stark pay thousands of dollars to furnish your room, oh my gosh that is _hilarious_.”

 

Everyone laughed and moved to leave for class as the bell rang. The rest of his day was pretty uneventful, though he did enjoy Flash’s—he learned from Ned in AP Chemistry that that was the bully’s name—face at his partially burnt shirt.

 

After his last class, Sy expected to head to the parking lot to be picked up by Happy, but Peter walked further into the school, “I have decathlon scheduled for today. You can join if you want, or you can just patrol. Wait, you don’t have a suit; are you going to patrol when you have a suit? You’d be terrifying to criminals. Ok, back to topic. You can go back home if you want or you can hang out, see what decathlon’s about, and see if you want to join. It’s up to you.”

 

Sy shrugged, “I’ll join you for now; what’s decathlon about?”

 

They (read: Peter) talked about decathlon until they arrived at the theater room, which doubled as the decathlon practice room. Peter introduced him to Mr. Harrington, “Mr. Harrington, this is Sy . . . mon. Symon. He’s interested in joining decathlon; is it ok if he hangs out here for today?”

 

“Sure, Peter. Symon, you can take a seat anywhere. We’re mostly going to open up with the new study material for this year’s decathlon, so you can just listen for today. If you are interested, you will have to take an entrance test to see what your strong field is; and Michelle, our team captain, and I will decide where you will be placed.” Sy nodded and went to sit down to the side. He pulled out a couple Rubik’s cubes and solved them absent-mindedly while watching the students filter in. Sy stiffened only slightly when he saw Flash walk in but Flash ignored him and sat down at the table with the group.

 

The team’s first practice went easy; according to MJ they were starting with the easy questions but it seemed like child’s play to Sy. Literally everything science, mathematics, economics, and history-based, his parents had taught him by the time he was seven. And he remembered thank you very much photographic memory. “Hey, can I join for a little bit?” Everyone looked surprised when he spoke up. “Sure,” MJ nodded, handing him a bell, “just ring the bell if you know an answer and don’t joke around.”

 

Sy nodded and took a seat at the end of the table, next to Harry and Betty. MJ started the questions again and everyone was surprised to find he was great at the sciences, especially biology and mathematics.

 

“Dude, that was amazing! How did you get so many of those questions?” a boy—Abe?—asked him.

 

Sy was confused, “I thought MJ said these were the easy questions?”

 

A girl—Cindy, he heard her called—replied, “No, you see, _MJ_ likes to be annoying most of the time; we started with easy questions for like 2 minutes before she pulled out the hardest questions she could find _on the first day._ ” She glared at MJ, who smiled innocently.

 

Sy shrugged, “My parents were scientists, and I like science, so it seemed easy I guess.” He smiled as he remembered his parents. That was something he was doing more of: smiling at their memory rather than crying at their absence. He shook his head and noticed everyone was packing up. _I guess practice is over._

 

Mr. Harrington pulled him aside, “I really think you could do an amazing job as part of this team. If you want to join, you’ll have to take the entrance test tomorrow. You can think about it until then.”

 

“I am going to join, Mr. Harrington. I think I could really enjoy being a part of this team.”

 

“Well, in that case, we will need the records from your last two completed school years to determine your GPA. Will you be able to bring them tomorrow?”

 

Sy winced, “Well, the thing is, I never really . . . did the first two years of high school. And my parents moved around so much that I never stayed a full year at any one school. Would it be possible to . . . take a test or something for that?”

 

Mr. Harrington looked perplexed, “Well, I suppose we could arrange for something like that. I’ll have to go over it with the principal and make some calls to the national decathlon board, but it should be ok.”

 

“Thank you Mr. Harrington; I’ll see you tomorrow!” Sy joined his friends and headed out of the school.

 

“So, are you going to join the team?” Ned asked.

 

“I think so; there may be some issues with my school records, but it might work out.”

 

“Cool.”

 

After grabbing a bite to eat, Sy flopped on his bed at the Tower, tired but happy. _Not a bad first day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> abruti = jerk
> 
> So, I will be taking a short break from posting. I will still try to write to get my chapter count back up, but I need to relax a little bit. Thank you for understanding :))
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments so I can improve and leave kudos if you liked it!!


	14. Second Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! I'm back! I have to change my update frequency so I don't burn myself out again, so there will be more time between chapters from now on. I will still try to keep them regular however
> 
> Enjoy the new chapter!!

Sy woke up early the next morning and stretched, looking around his room. Blue and Reon were probably out patrolling as birds or something a few blocks around the Tower; it was more habit now than necessity.

 

Sy made his way to the kitchen for breakfast and found Peter and Steve already there. “Hey, guys. Good morning.”

 

“Morning Sy!”

 

“Good morning, Sy. How was your first day of school yesterday? You booked it to bed before anyone could ask anything.”

 

“It was fine, nothing I’m not used to for a first day.”

 

Natasha walked in looking fabulous, as always. “Oh hey! I didn’t see you when you came in yesterday. Everything alright?”

 

Sy gave her a hug and sat down with a wince, “Sorry, Mom, I was tired so I grabbed a bite to eat and went straight to bed. Everything’s fine. Except, for decathlon they need some school documents I don’t have. The teacher said he could make some calls, and maybe I could just take a test instead, so it shouldn’t be too much of a problem. So mission: success, I guess.”

 

Natasha smirked, “Copy. Can you hand me the coffee pot?”

 

The rest of the Avengers filtered in later, and Peter and Sy rushed through their breakfasts at a pace that alarmed the others. “You guys do realize you have another half-hour until you have to leave.” They both froze.

 

“I woke up early today?” Peter sounded horrified. “I’m a teenager; I’m supposed to wake up seconds before I have to leave. What have I become?”

 

Sy snorted at that and finished his meal at a somewhat more leisurely pace. When they finished, Peter and Sy grabbed their bags and started for the elevator. “Hold on there, mister,” Natasha stopped them. “What do you think you’re doing, wearing that glove to school?”

 

Sy looked at his hand, clothed in his leather “glove” and then sheepishly back at Natasha. “I just wanted to bring some of my weapons with me to school: I feel naked without them. The only reason I didn’t bring one yesterday is that I didn’t know if the school had metal detectors or not.”

 

“Are we missing something here?”

 

“It’s one of the things from his bag; it has a spring-loaded knife.”

 

Sy held up his hand and flexed it, causing a long knife to spring out of it; Tony looked appropriately terrified, “How many weapons do you have, that look like innocent items?”

 

“Plenty; now hand it over, mister,” Natasha ordered.

 

Sy’s shoulders slumped and he handed her the glove. “I’ll leave it in your room.” Natasha pulled him into a hug and whispered, “You can keep the dagger.” Sy grinned. At a normal volume she said, “Have fun at school!”

 

“I will, Mom. Bye!” And with that, the elevator doors closed.

 

“You are such a Mom.”

 

Natasha glared at Tony until he ran from the room screaming.

 

__________________________________________________________________

 

School started out pretty similarly to yesterday: English III, Pre-Calculus, Spanish III, and Speech II—easy classes—then lunch. Today, some members of the decathlon team joined their group at their table. “So, Peter, Ned” one of them—Cindy, Sy remembered—started, “You two seemed to already know Symon here before he came to Midtown. How did you guys meet?” Ned looked at Peter with a panicked expression while Peter froze with his fork half-way to his mouth. He managed to stutter out, “I- um- the uh Stark . . . Internship?”

 

Sy held in an eye-roll—MJ didn’t—at Peter’s flop of an answer. “Peter, we signed the NDA’s and all that after the field trip; we won’t tell anyone you live with the Avengers. Is that how you met him? Are you an Avenger or something?” Cindy directed that last part to Sy.

 

Sy lifted his eyebrows in surprise and opened his mouth before closing it again. He huffed out a laugh and clapped Peter on the back, “I like these guys: they’re smarter than most people. You guys can call me Sy.” He held out his hand and shook hands with Cindy, Sally, Abe, and Charles. “No, I’m not an Avenger. But I do live with them.”

 

“What’s it like?” Sally asked.

 

Sy grinned gleefully, “They can be some of the biggest dorks you can imagine. Also, if you set it up right,” he nodded to MJ, “pranks can downright terrify some of them. There was this one prank—”

 

Someone interrupted Sy by placing a hand on his shoulder and turning him roughly. Flash. “So, new guy, what are you doing hanging out with Penis Parker and his Loser Squad? You a loser too?”

 

“Knock it off, Flash,” Ned growled.

 

“Shut it fatso. I’m simply finding a social class for _Symon_ over here.” He sneered. “Looks like you already joined the losers. See you around, _Symon.”_ With that, Flash stalked off.

 

“Well he certainly has a sense of the dramatic,” Sy tried to lighten the mood.

 

Betty looked sad, “Flash wasn’t always a jerk. Well, _that_ much of a jerk. He and Peter had a _somewhat_ friendly rivalry going on; but he changed when he found out Peter lives with the Avengers. Now he’s more violent, jealous. It’s sad really; of course, _Peter_ here won’t do anything about it. He probably hasn’t even told his _dad_ yet.” She leveled a glare at Peter.

 

Peter shrugged, “I can take it. Others might not be able to. I’m fine with this.”

 

“Peter, it isn’t right; how can you be fine with his beating you up twice a month?”

 

Sy’s head snapped in Peter’s direction, “Twice a _month?_ Peter, seriously, he should get expelled for that! Jealousy isn’t a reason for doing anything!”

 

Peter pleaded, “Sy, please, leave it alone. He hits like a girl—no offense MJ—and doesn’t even know where to hit to hurt. It’s fine. Please.”

 

Sy’s shoulders slumped, “Fine; but only because you’re my little brother. But if I’m there when he tries anything, I won’t stay to the side.”

 

“Hey! I’m older than you!”

 

“I was born in June,” Sy deadpanned.

 

“. . . snap.”

 **(**[ **♪** **♫** **♬**](https://fsymbols.com/computer/music-note/) **another one bites the dust, another one bites the dust**[ **♪** **♫** **♬**](https://fsymbols.com/computer/music-note/) ***cackles*)**

 

___________________________________________________________________

 

After lunch, Sy headed back to classes; first AP Chemistry, then AP Biology, and Computer Science. Then came gym. Now, gym always came easy to Sy, for obvious reasons; but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself . . . yet. He breezed through the crunches. Push-ups were easy but he toned it down to only twenty of them. Squats, burpees, pull-ups—all of them were easy, but, of course, he had to tone it down, similar to Peter. Unfortunately, he didn’t get the memo about dressing nerdily. He caught several girls eyeing him flirtatiously and he suddenly wished he had worn something more . . . geeky? Great, now he has to worry about people taking _that_ kind of interest in him. It’s not that he didn’t like girls, it’s just he didn't think he could fall in love with a human. Sure, Six and John did, but Sy didn’t think he could fall in love with someone who didn’t understand _him_ , who didn’t understand what it was like to be an alien.

 

Sy shook his head, clearing his thoughts. _Really, still a teenager and already thinking about falling in love? Ha!_

 

Gym class was over, so he grabbed a towel and went to take a shower before decathlon.

 

___________________________________________________________________

 

Sy walked with Peter and Ned to decathlon, listening to them as they chatted about the new Lego set they would build. Peter and Ned went to sit with the group while Mr. Harrington spoke to Sy at the entrance of the study room. “I made some calls, like I said; and, though they were hesitant at first, when I showed them your placement tests—which were _phenomenal_ by the way—they conceded to letting you take a test for your placement. You have to understand, they haven’t encountered a situation quite like yours. These are the placements tests, and this is the entrance exam. You can take them both and give them back at the end of practice.” Mr. Harrington patted Sy’s shoulder and left to join the other members for practice.

 

Well, time to get into it. Sy took a table and got to work. The placement tests were easier than the ones to get into Midtown; before he knew it, he was finished and had moved on to the entrance exam. Now, he knew decathlon covered a wide variety of questions, so he had prepared by reading a _ton_ of facts related to this year’s decathlon; so, mainly art, which wasn’t his strong suit.

 

Surprisingly, however, there were plenty of questions in his comfortable fields and he finished the test at a relaxed pace. Looking at his phone, he found it was actually near the end of practice. Huh. He took the completed tests to Mr. Harrington who looked at them in surprise, “Done already?” “Yeah, just finished. I’ll just get some personal work done on my phone over here,” Sy gestured behind him as he talked. “Ok. Come here after your last class tomorrow and I’ll tell you the results.”

 

Sy nodded and took a seat to the side, pulling out his phone. He had some ideas for his suit but they were just doodles at this point. He put down some ideas into his phone, making adjustments to the drawing until practice ended and he left with Peter, saying goodbye to the other decathlon members.

 

Peter talked incessantly with Happy about his day, leaving Sy to fiddle with his Rubik’s cubes. Happy, as usual, ignored Peter. When they got to the Tower, Sy scanned the area around him before grinning at Peter, “See you upstairs” and jumped, turning invisible as he began flying straight up. Already far below him, Peter made offended noises as he ran into the building.

 

By the time Peter got out of the elevator, Sy was already sprawled out on the couch, going through TV channels. Peter huffed and tossed his bag in Sy’s face as he sat on his legs. “Hey, get off, you brat!” “Never!” Sy threw the backpack across the room and shoved Peter off the sofa. “Get your own seat.” Peter stood up, picked up the sofa, and moved it out of the living room before moving a lazy boy in front of the TV.

 

Tony, Clint, Sam, and Natasha walked into the living room to see Peter clinging onto his lazy boy, which was hovering several feet off the ground, and Sy carrying the sofa on his shoulder back into its spot. “Boys! Stop fighting!” Tony and Natasha ordered at the same time. Tony glared at Natasha but shrank when she glared back.

 

“Sorry, Mom.”

 

“Sorry, Dad.”

 

Sy put down the sofa and Peter’s chair, but still put it facing backwards. Peter huffed and got up to turn it around.

 

“How was your second day of school?”

 

“Fine; Betty and Ned wouldn’t stop making googly eyes at each other, it was annoying. I wish Shuri were here.”

 

“Ooh no, the last time Shuri visited, you set the couch on fire; I don’t even know how! You were using the remote.”

 

Peter blushed, “We were trying to see if we could boost the signal enough to turn on and off Shuri’s mom’s TV in Wakanda and it kind-of exploded.”

 

Natasha sighed, “Of course it did. Sy, how about you?”

 

Sy shrugged, “Same old, same old. Classes were humorously easy, but not boring at least. There was this one thing at lunch, though . . .” Peter’s head shot up but Sy ignored him, “Some of the decathlon members found out I’m living with the Avengers, but it shouldn’t be a problem. I think we can trust them.” Peter breathed a sigh of relief. “Gym was light, and the decathlon tests were somewhat tough. I don’t know much about art so I had to do some research.”

 

Clint called out, “I think you and Petey are the only kids in your year that think gym is ‘light.’ Did you meet any girls yet?” He waggled his eyes.

 

Sy waved his hand dismissively, “Nah, not interested in dating really.”

 

“Oh come on. There were several girls eyeing you during gym, _Syyymon._ ” Peter sighed dramatically, “I think you’re the school’s latest heartthrob.”

 

Sy shoved him off the back of the couch. “Jerk.”

 

“Loser.”

 

Sam and Clint snickered, “Looks like someone is popular with the ladies. I might be able to give you a few tips.”

 

“Gosh, please, no Uncle Sam.”

 

Peter cackled at the name while Sam grabbed his chest and gasped dramatically, “I was the first! CLINT!! You owe me fifty bucks! No, don’t run; get over here you pigeon.” Sam chased Clint as he bolted.

 

“Sy, I fully expect uncle status by the end of the week.”

 

“Sorry Tony. Not gonna happen . . . grandpa.”

 

“ . . . YOU LITTLE—”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos if you liked it and let me know in the comments what you thought!!


	15. Fourth Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like the ending of this one, but oh well
> 
> Eight HUNDRED hits?!!!!! I'm??? So happy??????  
> Hope you like this!!

“Mm. Mmmm. Blue, stop licking me. I’m up. I’m up! Geez, I’m up.” Sy swatted at Blue and missed as she jumped off his bed. “Why did you have to wake me up?” He looked at the clock. “My alarm will literally go off in one minute. Why couldn’t you let me have one more minute of rest, you pest?” Blue jumped back onto the bed and restarted licking his cheek. _Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in . . . *sigh*._ “Fine, you’re not a pest. Yes, I know you love me. Good morning to you too. Where’s Reon? Then why aren’t you patrolling with him? Seriously? _Just_ to wake me up? You’re lucky you’re so beautiful; now, get off my bed. I have to get ready for school. Now I can be a whole minute early, thank you very much.”

 

Sy threw on a black tee, blue hoodie, and jeans along with white tennis shoes before heading down a floor for breakfast. Bucky seemed to be the only one awake and he was drinking a cup of coffee while reading a newspaper. “You know, you can read any newspaper you want online, right?”

 

Bucky simply shrugged, “I prefer paper still. Happy had to go with Pepper to a meeting in L.A. so I’ll be taking you and Pete to school.”

 

“Cool. Where is Peter? Shouldn’t he be down already for breakfast?” Bucky shrugged again. “FRIDAY?”

 

“Mini Boss is currently contemplating suicide and has threatened whoever invented mornings with death.” Sy snorted. “Tell him to get down here or I’ll make everything he wears puke green for three days.”

 

One minute later Peter ran out of the elevator disheveled but dressed. “I hate you so much.”

 

“Eat your fruit. Growing baby spiders need nutrients.”

 

“I will literally throw you out the window if you keep talking.”

 

“I’ll just . . . fly away.”

 

“Not if I knock you unconscious first.”

 

“Don’t, you’ll break your fist.”

 

“Yeah, because you have a brick for a head.”

 

“Peter, Sy, eat your breakfast. It’s too early for fighting.”

 

They both looked at Bucky with incredulous expressions. “Who’s fighting?” Peter asked.

 

Bucky swatted Peter with the rolled-up newspaper, “Eat! You don’t want to be late.”

 

Peter gasped dramatically, “He tried to kill me! Sy, tell me you saw that, he used a newspaper on me. Me! A spider! He tried to kill me!”

 

Sy snorted and continued eating.

 

“Oh wow, I see how it is. Not even going to try to protect me?”

 

Sy looked dead serious as he replied, “I would die to protect you.”

 

 “ . . . Wow ok, no need to get serious. But, thanks.”

 

“You’re welcome, _baby bro_.”

 

“YOU KNOW WHAT—”

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

They arrived at school ten minutes early because Bucky was a terrifying driver. “Are you going to pick us up?” Sy asked, with slight trepidation.

 

“Yep. I’ll see you guys later!” Peter and Sy waved forlornly and walked into school to join Ned and Harry at their lockers.

 

“Where are Betty and MJ? They suddenly realize they’re too good for you two and ditch?”

 

Harry shoved Sy, “You wish. And no, thankfully they haven’t. MJ recruited Betty’s help to find the absolute hardest questions for decathlon practice tomorrow. Honestly, it’s still week one! Wait, you are going to be there, right?”

 

“Yeah, I talked to Mr. Harrington after school yesterday and he said I’m on the team. Gave me the study guide for this year’s topics. I don’t know much about art or art history so I’ll stick to science and economics. Traveling the world and using a wide variety of currencies over the years gives a slight insight into the flow of economics.”

 

Ned nodded sagely, “Sounds like a plan. You should tell MJ, that’s a really good idea.”

 

The bell rang right then. “We’re late! Come on!”

 

Mrs. Winterhalter was not happy that they were late to English class; but, she’s the fun teacher so she let Peter and Sy off with a warning.

 

Sy had a drawstring bag with some school books and Rubik’s cubes in it and while he _was_ paying attention, he was also solving the Rubik’s cubes in the background, using his Photokinesis to ‘see’ the colors. He didn’t normally like English class but learning about the history of literature was interesting—learning how it all flowed together. Plus the teacher was fun.

 

He had photographic memory, so learning wasn’t a problem. Sometimes, though, memorizing everything he saw or heard or felt could get to be too much. The Rubik’s cubes helped with that. It was repeated action: different permutations, but the same process over and over—nothing new. So, in the moments when everything was too much—like now: students didn’t like English so they were talking and whispering and he could hear all of them thanks to his super hearing—he fiddled with his cubes to keep himself grounded. He refocused on the lesson and started participating in class again.

 

After English, his brain didn’t overload anymore and he actually went through classes pretty normally. By lunch, he could process and relax like he learned from his parents. He grabbed his lunch and went to sit with his friends. “Hey, Peter; so, Saturday’s movie night, right?”

 

“No, it’s the first week of school, of course it’s not movie night. Mom and Dad want me to go to bed early every day of the first month because apparently, ‘I don’t have any self-preservation skills’ and 'I'll burn myself out if I don't get plenty of sleep and establish a schedule.'”

 

“Well, they aren’t wrong.”

 

“Ned, you betray me!”

 

“It’s true.”

 

“MJ! Not you too?!”

 

“Peter,” Betty chastised, “I think all of us agree that you have no self-preservation skills. You literally had bone sticking out of your leg and you kept trying to fight Rhino.”

 

All six of them were silent for several seconds before Sy closed his eyes and spoke evenly, “Peter, tell me you didn’t actually do that.”

 

“Heh, well, you see-” he dove backwards to avoid the sudden punch Sy aimed for his head.

 

“YOU AREN’T EVEN GOING TO GIVE ME THE SATISFACTION OF PUNCHING YOU FOR YOUR IDIOCY?! STOP DODGING ME YOU MORON!!”

 

The others were cackling at their antics until Peter’s phone started ringing “[♪♫♬](https://fsymbols.com/computer/music-note/) you’re my da-ad, you’re my dad!! Boogie-woogie woogie! [**♪♫** **♬**](https://fsymbols.com/computer/music-note/)”

 

The boys froze. Peter slowly lifted his phone, maintaining eye contact with Sy. “He- Hey, Dad! What’s up?” Sy internally face-palmed; he _totally_ didn’t sound suspicious.

 

“Hey, _Peter_. Wanna tell me why your vitals are elevated like you’re in a fight when you should be in school?” Tony knew. He sounded too casual to not know.

“I _am_ in school.”

 

Tony dropped the chipper tone, “Don’t lie to me Peter; you’re terrible at it.”

 

“But I’m not!” he insisted. “I really _am_ in school! Sy and I were just arguing.”

 

“About what?”

 

“He found out about the time I kept fighting Rhino with a broken leg.” As soon as the words left Peter’s mouth he clamped his free hand over his mouth. The message was clear: he hadn’t told Tony that.

 

There was silence on the other end for what seemed like several minutes. When Tony finally responded, he sounded terrifyingly calm, “Peter, we will be talking about that when you get home,” and hung up.

 

“Welp, it’s been nice knowing you Peter.”

 

“Thanks Ned. You can have all my Star Wars Lego sets when I die.”

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

 

Sy honestly hated gym class; and it was only his second time at this school. Coach Wilson decided to have team-building exercises today and he started with Circle Jumping: basically, everyone stands in a circle, holding hands, and follows the coach’s instructions: jump left, jump in, jump out, etc.

 

Several girls almost literally fought to stand next to Sy and hold his hands and he was extremely uncomfortable about that. By the end of gym his face was burning red and he tried to let go as soon as Wilson gave the go-ahead; but one of the girls wouldn’t let go. She rubbed his hand flirtatiously with her thumb and said, “So, Symon. Tomorrow’s Friday.”

 

“How astute.”

 

She huffed, “I’m Emma; I was wondering if you would like to go to the movies tomorrow? There’s a movie I’ve been _dying_ to see and I was hoping you would like to join?”

 

Sy shook off her hand and tried to speak cordially, “Sorry, Emma. I already had plans for Friday.”

 

She looked disappointed, “Oh, well, maybe some other time then?”

 

Sy just gave a noncommittal smile and left to get changed.

 

_________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Peter and Sy waved at their friends as they left the school. Bucky was waiting for them as he said he would be.

 

“Hey, Bucky! Thanks for picking us up!”

 

“Pete, you’ve been part of our family for almost a year; _when_ am I going to be ‘Uncle Bucky’?”

 

“Fine, _Uncle Bucky._ When are you going to ask Darcy out?”

 

Bucky blushed and swatted at Peter.

 

“Who’s Darcy?”

 

Peter replied innocently, “Oh only the love of Bucky’s life. Thor adopted her as his ‘lightning sister’ because she once tased him. She’s Jane’s assistant.”

 

“And who’s Jane?”

 

“Thor’s girlfriend.”

 

“Thor has a girlfriend?! Oh and Bucky, yeah, ask her out, seriously.”

 

“Ah ah you don’t get to talk about that Mr. School Heartthrob,” Bucky shot back.

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Bucky,” Peter started innocently, “did you know Sy got asked out after gym today?”

 

Sy reached across the car and slapped a hand over Peter’s mouth, “Stop talking you menace.”

 

Bucky grinned, “You know, I might be disinclined to tell the others about this if you call me ‘Uncle Bucky.’”

 

Sy let go of Peter and shrugged, “Nah, not until I _actually_ get adopted.” Looking out the window, he missed Peter’s and Bucky’s looks of shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave kudos if you liked it and let me know what you did and didn't like in the comments so I can improve!!
> 
> Note: during my hiatus, I went through my previous chapters and changed them slightly. No major changes, just little things here and there to ensure continuity. If I reference something in a future chapter and you don't remember reading it, I may have added it in then. Shouldn't be anything too major though


	16. Fifth Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I wanted to get this out to you, but I'm still having trouble writing (I've been working on the same chapter for a week even though I know how I want it to go)
> 
> But enough of that; hope you enjoy!

Friday went by in a blur. Bruce had mentioned testing his physical limits today after school and Sy would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. While he had been vaguely aware of his limits, he had never measured exactly how much he could lift with one arm, or how fast he could run, or how far he could hear. And, yeah, he was excited. Peter fidgeted wildly when he was excited; Sy didn’t. He just became really, really focused on everything at once. It wasn’t . . . painful like photographic memory could be some days; just really annoying, because these days would be the ones he remembered in the most vivid details, even _if_ they were mostly mundane.

 

Trying to ignore everything but the lessons, Sy went through the day both quickly and slowly. By the time decathlon rolled around, he could recite with perfect pronunciation everything every teacher had said since this morning, which his friends found hilarious.

 

Once all the decathlon members had gathered around the table, MJ spoke up, “Ok everyone. We have a new member” she waved toward Sy, “This is Symon. He’s going to be the economics expert on our team for this year’s competition. Everyone else will have their normal positions. Let’s get to work.” She pulled out her questions and began drills.

 

Despite of his excitement, Sy was able to focus and participate. He aced every economics and mathematics question; and he was starting to wonder if MJ had actually tricked them and gone with easier questions. About half-way through the questions, Flash slammed the table and pointed an accusing finger at Sy, “Ok, there is no way you know all that information. What did you do? Look at the questions with MJ? That’s low, and a bad way to start in decathlon.”

 

Sy was stunned, “I- What? What are you talking about? Why would I cheat during a practice?”

 

“You’re trying to impress everyone here. It’s pathetic, loser.”

 

Sy didn’t respond and stared at Flash until he started getting uncomfortable and sat down. _Mom would be so proud._ He said out loud, “I have photographic memory and I’ve been reading the study guide since Wednesday. So, yes, I do know all that information. I also know you choked on your seventh bite of lunch when one of your friends said something ridiculously stupid. And that you tripped over your own feet Tuesday and blamed it on one of the kids near you. And that you called Peter “Penis” a total of twenty-three times Wednesday alone. Ignoring your strange fixation, the name calling is simply childish and unwelcome so I suggest you stop.” He turned to MJ, “Can we continue practice?”

 

MJ smirked and turned to her questions, “What were the GNP’s of Germany, Spain, and France for each of the last three years?”

 

_______________________________________________

 

 

Flash remained silent aside for answering questions for the rest of practice, which was a welcome development. After practice, MJ pulled Sy aside, “You will most definitely be in the honors group so study appropriately. Do you really have photographic memory?” Sy nodded. “Ok, you will need to know more than just economics and math, so read as much as you can on the other subjects. Just- I know some of the problems with photographic memory, so don’t over-work yourself. I don’t want one of my friends to be a walking, mumbling decathlon answer key.”

 

Sy put a hand on his chest and wiped a fake tear from his eye, “I’m one of your friends? This is a glorious moment!”

 

MJ rolled her eyes at him, “I let you call me MJ, so yes: you are one of my friends. Now, get out of here and go study.”

 

Sy saluted her and raced for the car. Steve had dropped them off today, and now he was waiting with Peter in front of the school. “Hey, Sy! Glad you could join us!”

 

“Yeah, sorry, I was held back by our captain for some advice.”

 

“So? You excited for the tests today?” Peter was grinning widely. “I nearly freaked when I found out I could lift _twenty five tons._ And that I’m faster than Cap?! A DREAM!”

 

Steve swatted his arm behind his chair, “You little punk, you still haven’t beaten me in a spar.”

 

Peter grinned devilishly, “No, but I’m pretty sure Sy could if he went all out.”

 

Sy smiled and lifted an arm around Peter’s shoulders, “See, Steve? Even Peter can admit when someone is better than him.”

 

Peter opened and closed his mouth in shock before saying, “Ok yeah I set myself up for that one.”

 

“But, in answer to your question, yes, I’m very excited.”

 

They didn’t get to the Tower quickly enough in Sy’s opinion. As soon as they pulled up, Sy jumped out of the car and flew, invisible, straight to the right window of the Tower. Bruce already had the equipment set up and was working on some problem on his tablet. He looked up as Sy entered through the window, “Hey, Sy. You- Are you ready? Or do you want to grab a bite to eat first? Although, that would affect your results; it’s your choice, but I would recommend not eating until after the tests.”

 

“That’s fine, Bruce; I’ll just go get changed first!” Sy left the room to get changed came back dressed in sweat pants and tennis shoes. “Ok, ready!”

 

“We’ll begin with the treadmill.” Bruce pushed Sy to his limits (with safety precautions of course) and they found many things out about Sy: he can lift up to 50 tons (estimated if he’s running high on adrenaline; normally, it’s around 35 tons); with his natural speed, being a Garde, he can run at 60 mph for four hours before tiring, and sprint at 90 mph for an hour and a half; his hearing matches Peter’s (able to hear a person whisper up to five miles away) while being unable to be hurt by loud noises nearby; aside from night vision, his sight, as well as his other senses, is normal for a Lorien; he can hold his breath for ten minutes; and his skin is slightly more impervious than a normal human’s (there was only light testing in that area, don’t worry).

 

It was nearly 11 p.m. when they finally exhausted most of their ideas. Sy was reading over the results, while he thought about other tests they could possibly do. He called out distractedly, “Hey, Bruce, do you think we can test my resistance to electricity? I’m immune to both hot and cold temperatures, but I want to see how I would react if someone were to, say, taser me. What do you think?”

 

Hearing no response, he looked up and smiled when he was greeted by the sight of Bruce, his head tilted back, asleep in a chair. His brain supplied the nearly identical image of his father in the same position after a long night brainstorming a science problem.

 

 _Where did that come from?_ Sure, Bruce was a master in the arts of biological science and radioactivity like his dad, as well as being _nearly_ as dorky as his dad had been. (No one could be _as_ dorky as his dad; Sy would have been horrifyingly embarrassed of his dad if it wasn’t so funny.)

 

Shaking his thoughts loose, Sy stood and stretched and freed the tablet from Bruce’s grip. He grabbed a blanket that was kept in the labs for this very circumstance and draped it over Bruce carefully. For a second, he hesitated, then he shrugged: _he’s asleep, so he won’t remember._ Sy tentatively hugged Bruce and whispered, “Goodnight . . . Dad.”

 

Whispering to FRIDAY to turn off the lights, Sy left the room and headed to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this didn't end as well as it could have, but oh well
> 
> Note: from now on, all chapters with which I will include pictures will have an asterisk in their titles. If you want to see the pictures associated with the chapters, you can check out this story on Wattpad under the same username and title :)) enjoy! (*˘︶˘*).｡.:*♡


	17. Quality Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspiration is a fickle thing: I spent more than a week writing one chapter, then two days writing another chapter. Welp
> 
> All phrases in foreign languages have hyperlinks: hover your cursor over the text to see the translation
> 
> Hope you enjoy this one!

A couple weeks later, Sy was in the lab with Bruce again, working on a problem that the others might find slightly worrisome. Natasha came storming in with a playful glare, “You guys have been in this room every day for three weeks. I haven’t gotten any quality time with мой сын the entire time. What are you even working on in here?”

 

Sy grinned sheepishly, “Sorry Mom, we’ve been trying to find a way to synthetically reproduce some ancient reptilian species, but so far, it hasn’t been working out. We need some original samples before we can go any further.”

 

She brought a hand to her face, “Dinosaurs. You are trying to make dinosaurs. Peter made us watch an entire movie series on why that is a bad idea.”

 

“We just wanted to see if we could.”

 

“You scientists wanted to see if you _could_ do it, but you never stopped to think if you _should_ do it.”

 

Sy’s and Bruce’s mouths dropped open, “Nat, did- did you just quote a movie?”

 

“Bruce, if you tell Peter I did that, you’re sleeping on the couch for three months.”

 

Bruce paled, “Yes, ma’am. Not a word.”

 

Natasha turned to Sy, “And Sy, if you tell Peter, I’m telling him, in detail, about that time you completely missed a bar during gymnastics and face-planted on top of Sam, while he was eating a large bowl of ice cream.”

 

Aghast, Sy pleaded, “No, Mom, please no.”

 

“I’m glad we’re in agreement,” she grinned, “Now, you boys want to go get some ice cream? Bruce, I found this place that has vegetarian ice cream for you.”

 

“Umm,” he glanced at the chalkboard then hesitantly back at Natasha, “You sure you guys want me to go with you?”

 

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Yes, you dork, let’s go. C’mon, grab your coat. It’s October and chilly outside.”

 

_________________________________________________________

 

Sy was happily spooning his triple fudge sundae into his mouth as they walked through the park, “Getting ice cream when it’s cold out is one my favorite things to do, because the weird looks I get are _gold_.”

 

With a curious face, Bruce asked, “Sy how are you not freezing? You’re wearing blue jeans and a t-shirt.”

 

Sy glanced at his outfit and continued walking. “I’m immune to cold. I Ximiced Marina’s ice powers for some of my missions in Canada and Siberia,” he shrugged.

 

“You’re immune to heat . . . _and_ cold?”

 

Sy nodded, “I exist in a weird, lukewarm state. Like, when it’s hot around me, I warm up only marginally, and when it’s cold around me, I cool down slightly. It’s like living in slightly-warmer-than-body-temperature warm air or, in-the-shade-on-a-breezy-summer-day cool air.”

 

Natasha shook her head fondly, “Tony is going to get a headache trying to come up with a contingency plan for you.” At Sy’s confused, and slightly hurt expression, she amended, “Don’t worry; he has contingency plans for all of us. If I had to guess, he probably thought your weakness was cold since you’re heat immune, but that plan’s out the window.” She smirked, “He’ll probably pull out his hair while shrieking, ‘HOW MANY POWERS CAN ONE PERSON HAVE?!’” They all let loose laughs at that and continued their walk in a comfortable silence.

 

Once they finished their ice creams, they strolled the rest of the way through the park before heading back to the Tower. Sy and Bruce played a game where they said the scientific name of every bird they came across. Natasha smiled fondly at her two boys.

 

“Sialia sialis.”

 

“Sturnus vulgaris.”

 

“Sturnus vulgaris.”

 

“Hey! No fair! I just called that one!”

 

Bruce ignored him, but there was a slight smile on his face, “Passer domesticus.”

 

Sy rolled his eyes and joined back in the game, “Columba livia.”

 

______________________________________________

 

When they got back to the Tower, Bruce headed back to his lab, but Natasha pulled Sy to a room away from the others.

 

“Mom, is everything ok?”

 

“Yes, we just need to have a chat.”

 

Sy started going over a list of everything he’s done recently: _was it the pranks? I know I probably shouldn’t have helped Loki stab Thor, but the plan Loki came up with was too hilarious not to go through with it. I mean, how could Thor have expected that_ I _was the snake when he didn’t even know I had shape-shifting powers?_ He was pulled out of his thoughts when his mom sat down and assumed a patient position. “Did I do something wrong?” he stood there.

 

“No, I just need to know everything: your powers, your weaknesses, everything. I can’t afford surprises. I understand if you don’t want to tell everyone yet, but I need to know.”

 

“Why do you need to know my weaknesses? To help Tony make a _contingency plan?”_ he was hurt. Did she not trust him?

 

“ _NO_.” The firmness with which she said that startled him. “I need to be able to protect you. When we go out into the field, if I don’t know what circumstances could pose a threat to you, _I can’t protect you from them_. So I need to know.” Standing up and embracing him, she spoke softly, “I can’t lose my son.”

 

He hugged her back tightly, hurt forgotten. “Ok,” he said softly, “I’ll tell you.”

 

For the next couple hours he explained in detail every single one of his Legacies and any weaknesses he’s discovered over the years, and answered any questions she had about them. He didn’t give the stories behind why he Ximiced each one, because then they would have been there all night. This was enough for now.

 

**(Here’s the list if ya’ll were wondering):**

**SY’S NATURAL LEGACIES (not Ximiced):                        WEAKNESSES:**

**Enhancement (Common to all Garde)**

**Telekinesis                                                                    Upper weight limit set by training; at base, everything he can physically lift, he can telekinetically lift, but can be trained to lift more. Sy’s current upper limit is 350 tons**

**Plant Control (Silvas)**

**Photokinesis**

**Charm Casting                                                             Every charm has a weakness that one has to be aware of**

**Manipulation of electricity (Elecomun)                        Can NOT come into contact with water while using this Legacy as it will cause an overload**

**Sonic Flight                                                                 Carrying passengers can get tiring easily**

**Telepathy                                                                    Can only hear thoughts directed at him or at the group in a Mind-Link**

**Ximic                                                                           Can only Ximic Legacies he has observed**

**XIMICED LEGACIES:**

**Animal telepathy (Anima)                                           Distance weakens the strength of this ability but can be extended infinitely with the antler**

**Teleportation                                                             Accuracy in inversely proportional to distance (greater distance means less accuracy)**

**Technopathy                                                              Has to have a basic knowledge of how the tech works**

**Invisibility                                                                  Causes severe headache when injured, malnourished, or dehydrated**

**Externa                                                                      Has to constantly be in contact with material**

**Lumen                                                                       Only externally immune to heat**

**Manipulation of fire (Pyrokinesis)**

**Manipulation of ice (Glacen)**

**Manipulation of weather elements (Sturma)             Cannot create a storm without a previously-existing cloud**

**Shape-shifting                                                          The larger the form, the greater the concentration required**

**Super Hearing                                                           Can cause difficulty falling asleep**

**Super Strength**

**Underwater Breathing**

**Night Vision**

**Super Speed                                                              Extended use drains energy**

**Antigravity**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> мой сын means "my son"
> 
> If a weakness isn’t listed for a Legacy, it’s because I couldn’t think of one ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Leave kudos and let me know in the comments what you liked and didn't like so I can improve! Also, I'm planning on writing a Christmas chapter in the near future and could use some suggestions; please help ლ(ಠ_ಠ ლ)


	18. Visits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! New chapter! Mostly crack and a new character! Enjoy!

“ **Hey, Peter?** ” Sy asked in Russian.

 

“Hmm?”

 

It was Wednesday night, and Peter, Sy, and Tony were lazily lounging around the Common Area. Tony was on the sofa and Peter and Sy were on the ceiling, all scrolling through their various devices.

 

“ **What do you think about inviting the Decathlon team over to the Tower for practice Friday?”**

 

Peter shot up _(down?)_  and looked at Sy in shock, “ **You can’t be serious!** ”

 

“Why are you two speaking in Russian? It’s kind of freaking me out.”

 

They ignored Tony, and Peter stared wide-eyed at Sy, “ **Everyone here is going to embarrass us! Why would you want that?!”**

Sy responded, “ **Getting embarrassed is a part of childhood. If you think we can avoid that you are very wrong; they will most definitely try to embarrass us at school eventually.** ”

 

Peter groaned and flopped his head back down _(up?)_ , “ **I want to prolong it for as long as possible.** ”

 

“Ok, seriously, what are you two talking about? It’s really freaking me out.”

 

They continued to ignore him, “ **Look, Peter, what’s the worst they can do? Treat us like children and tell embarrassing stories? We get teased anyway for silly stuff we do. This would just be more of the same stuff except they can’t repeat any of the stories outside of the Tower. And besides, there's no guarantee the team will embarrass us.** ”

Peter sighed heavily and sat back up _(down?),_ turning to Tony, “Tony, I have a favor to ask.”

___________________________________________

 

 

Tony’s first reaction was, “ _Kids,_ in _my_ Tower?!” His second reaction was pure glee when he realized the implications of the visit. “Sure, invite the kiddies. Though, I don’t know how much studying they’ll get done if, say, _Iron Man_ were to make a surprise visit. Actually, it wouldn’t be a surprise visit, I live here.”

 

Peter flopped his head back against the ceiling, “I. Regret. Everything,” punctuating each word by hitting the ceiling.

 

“Oh come on. It’ll be fun! Flash is sick for the rest of the week _and_ next week with strep throat so he won’t be there to annoy us; it will be great!”

 

“Yeah, Peter, listen to your brother.”

 

“Isn’t it weird that legally, Sy and I would probably be considered cousins but everyone just accepts that we are brothers?”

 

Sy snorted and flipped off the ceiling and went to bed.

 

_______________________

 

“Are you serious?!!!!” Abe nearly shouted.

 

It was during lunch the next day that Sy and Peter had presented their **(read: Sy’s)** idea to the team.

 

“Yes, we’re serious. Peter told me you guys already visited the Tower?”

 

The team nodded; _that_ had been an experience. “Ok so you have your visitor passes? If you guys are going to be more regular visitors, we are going to have to upgrade you to frequent visitor status.”

 

There were several squeals of delight (though everyone will deny it if anyone asks) at this development. Peter nodded with resignation, “Yeah, Sy’s right; you guys are my friends. It’s not fair to have some of you over and not others.”

 

“What are you going to do when Flash gets better?”

 

Sy’s expression turned sour at the mention of the bully, “He doesn’t have to know. We can just hang out after school. If you want, that is.”

 

“No duh. Of course we’re going!”

 

“Ok, so after school Friday, do you guys want to go home before going to the Tower, or go straight to the Tower.”

 

“Straight to the Tower, definitely.” Several of them voiced their agreement and Sy nodded, “Ok then, we’ll give you guys a ride after school. Just make sure your parents know you’ll be hanging out with us.”

 

_____________________________________

 

 

School ended quickly Friday, with kids rushing out to their glorious weekends. The decathlon team gaped while Peter and Sy slid into the freaking limo that pulled to the front of the school. “C’mon guys! Get in!” They scrambled into the car and very carefully tried not to touch anything as the car pulled away.

 

“Happy, you had to get the limo? You couldn’t have gotten, say, an SUV or something? Smh.”

 

“Peter, you just said ‘smh’ in a real conversation, loser.”

 

_____________________________________

 

 

After arriving at the domestic floor and stepping off the elevator, the group was immediately greeted with the sight of the _Princess of Wakanda_ grinning widely standing in front of the elevator. “Shuri!” Shuri laughed as Peter hugged her and picked her up (much to the decathlon team’s shock) and peppered her face with kisses (even more to their shock). “When did you get here? Why didn’t you call?”

 

“Just now and I wanted to surprise you,” she swatted him in the chest, “Now introduce me to these other children; hi, Ned, MJ, Betty . . . and Harry, right? Who is everyone else?”

 

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, “This is my decathlon team,” he pointed to each one as he named them, “Cindy, Abe, Seymour, Sally, Lincoln, Charles, and Sy.”

 

Shuri’s eyes snapped to Sy, “You’re Sy? The alien Peter told me about who’s immune to heat and has telekinesis and I don’t even know what else?!”

 

“Shuri!” Peter whisper-shouted, “It was supposed to be a secret!”

 

The team was openly gaping at Sy right now. “Ugh, another one of those silly secret identity things? First Spider-Man and now this? Oh well, too late now; come on, we are doing _science_ on this so-called ‘heat immunity.’”

 

“Nope, no can do princess, we’re having decathlon practice. Nerd out afterward,” MJ deadpanned.

 

Shuri pouted then smiled again, “I’ll join you! It will be fun to watch, I’m sure.”

 

Peter groaned playfully but motioned them all to the sofa.

 

“Yeah, no, no Peter. Any of the Avengers could interrupt at any point and we wouldn’t get any practice done.” Right then, Natasha strolled toward the kitchen, changing direction when she caught sight of the group, “Sy, Peter! You didn’t tell me you were bringing your team over.” She hugged Sy then Peter and waved to the team.

 

“Hey Mom,” Sy said casually. Even though the team knew Sy lived with the Avengers and that the name he used at school was “Romanov,” hearing him call the freaking _Black Widow_ “Mom” was still an incredible shock. Add on top of that, that they just found out he’s and _ALIEN?!_ Well, to say they were stunned would be an understatement.

 

“Natasha, as much as I love seeing you, we’re here for decathlon practice, and your presence _might_ be a little distracting.” Sy and Natasha wore identical smirks at MJ’s comment while Peter just nodded slightly.

 

“Are you kidding?!” Abe exclaimed. “There is no way we can practice now! Sy, we have a _lot_ of questions.”

 

At MJ’s glare, Abe amended, “I mean, ‘we will do our best to focus and hold all questions until after practice.’ Please stop glaring.”

 

MJ smirked and Sy waved at them to follow him, “C’mon, there’s too high a chance to meet an Avenger in the Common Room; we can go to my room.” After depositing their winter jackets by the door, the group followed Sy in a daze that was further deepened by the appearance of his room. Turns out, Sy really liked plants: vines grew across the entirety of the exposed-brick and natural-wood walls; fantastically colored flowers bloomed (definitely out of season) on his dresser and across tables; even his bed had thick tree roots grown into the frame, though no trunk or branches were present. Sy spread his arms and bowed after he deposited his shoes by the door, “This is my humble abode. Please leave your shoes by the door.” As they took off their shoes, they noticed that what they had mistaken for dark green carpet was actually thick moss. “You don’t have to worry about grass stains, or bugs either.”

 

They sighed in contentment at the incredibly warm and humid environment in Sy’s room as they sat down. “Oh, this feels so _good_ after the cold outside,” Cindy sighed. Peter made some noise of agreement from the blanket burrito that somehow materialized around him. “I hate the cold.”

 

“Alright, team, let’s get to practice.” Sy flopped onto the bed while the others took seats on the large couch or just lay on the wonderfully soft moss, and they began. They were working on their speeches now—starting early so they could find topics that suited them. MJ would state a topic, and if someone felt inclined to take it, they would take two minutes to prepare before giving an impromptu speech. It was a rather good way to test their knowledge on various topics.

 

Shuri watched the proceedings with amusement from her place cuddled into Peter’s side--Peter had abandoned the blanket burrito in favor of Shuri--and teased him mercilessly when he gave a short speech on the arc reactor. Sy was ecstatic: another person to help him tease Peter! Oh this was going to be fun! Sy was lying on his back, tossing his spine grenade into the air while he listened to the speeches. The team didn’t miss how it hovered in the air for a second before falling down, but they ignored that in favor of avoiding MJ’s wrath.

 

Finally, after two hours, MJ stopped the practice, “I think if we go any further, you all are liable to lose your minds; practice is over.”

 

Instantly, everyone sprang up and arranged themselves into a semicircle, staring at Sy. Ceasing his motions, he looked at the group, “You look like the blind followers of a cult waiting for their glorious leader to give a speech.”

 

He was met with blank stares and blinking for a moment before Abe rung his bell (which he only had for comedic purposes) and said, “I’ll take ‘Speech by Glorious Leader’ for fifteen hundred.” Cindy slapped his arm and Sy snorted as he rolled off his bed to empty and take off his jacket. ”What, my loyal followers, do you wish to hear?” As he spoke, he placed his dagger on his dresser, along with his spike grenade, a strand of green stones, and his shield bracelet.

 

“Um, Sy? Did you have that dagger all day?”

 

“Mm hmm, and every day since the second day of school.” At their shocked looks he shrugged, “I feel safer with my weapons.”

 

“What’s this?” Shuri asked as she picked up the ball; she rolled it around in her hands and gave it a squeeze. “Is it one of those stress balls?”

 

“No! Put it down!” Sy’s arm shot out as Shuri dropped the ball, just in time to stop the spikes with telekinesis as they shot from the ball.

 

“What was that?!” The team slowly uncovered their faces as the danger had passed.

 

“That . . . was a spike grenade; FYI, if something around here looks dangerous, it probably is. And even if it doesn’t, it still probably is.”

 

“Are they alien technology?” Charles asked excitedly.

 

“Yes, yes they are.”

 

“Two of our teammates live with the Avengers and one of them is an alien,” Ned breathed, “Our lives are so cool right now.” He looked ready to faint.

 

“You ok there Ned?” Peter looked worried.

 

“Don’t forget to breathe,” said Abe.

 

For the next half-hour, Sy answered questions ranging from the name of his race, to his real age (no, Ned, I do not age like Thor does; I really _am_ 16 years old).

 

“Can you show us some of your powers?” Sally asked excitedly.

 

“I’m not about to set myself on fire in here but . . .” he lifted his arm and picked Peter up with telekinesis, removing Shuri’s human pillow in the process. “Hey! Let go!” Shuri was cackling as Peter flapped around in the air trying to find _some_ handhold. “Sy, put me down, _now!_ Or- or you’ll regret it!”

 

“Honestly, I feel like I’m being threatened by a puppy.”

 

“Ooo burn,” remarked Shuri.

 

“Ooo burn,” echoed Abe.

 

Loki materialized next to Sy, “Ooo burn.” The team shrieked at Loki’s appearance.

 

“. . . Do you even know _why_ you said burn?” Sy asked.

 

“I don’t know; I just felt it.”

 

“What?”

 

“The power of the burn,” he declared dramatically, then vanished.

 

“Wa- was that Loki?” Seymour was shaking.

 

After Sy put Peter down, Peter responded, “Yeah, but he’s cool now. Apparently, he was being mind-controlled during New York and he’s not as evil now. He and I have a system to prevent outbursts.”

 

“Dude, stop making your life more and more awesome! First, you have an internship with Tony Stark; then you live _with the Avengers;_ _then_ you’re friends with the newest Avenger who also happens to be an alien; now you have a system to keep _Mr. Mischief_ in check?!”

 

Loki appeared for a split second again “The _god_ of mischief” and disappeared.

 

MJ piped up, “Mr. Mischief _does_ sound funnier.”

 

He reappeared again, brandishing a knife, “Don’t push it mortal.”

 

Sy tossed a water bottle at Loki and watched with glee as it passed right through him. “Piss off, ghost,” he said with a smile.

 

Loki muttered “Children” and disappeared.

 

“Ok, so, I don’t care for any of this,” Shuri announced, “Show me this alien tech.”

 

“Not now Shuri—or Princess, or whatever—please: most of them will require dangerous demonstrations and I don’t want to use them here,” Sy pleaded.

 

Shuri frowned and pouted, along with the rest of the team, “Pleeeeaase?”

 

Sy stared at them then shook his head and repeated Loki’s earlier sentiment, “Children. And no, not here.”

 

Shuri stood up and began urging everyone to pack up, “Come on. Time to go, we have important sciencing to do. Leave us!”

 

“But we want to see too!” Seymour whined.

 

“Not this time; I can’t have my very important experiments interrupted by silly questions. Now leave us!”

 

The team groaned but obeyed the Princess. As they were entering the elevator, Sally called to Peter, “Oh, and Peter? Don’t think you got out of explaining how you’re dating the Princess of Wakanda. Bye!”

 

Peter groaned as the elevator slid shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently writing the Christmas chapter and need some ideas; pwease hewp (´・ω・`)
> 
> Drop me some kudos and let me know in the comments what you liked and didn't like so I can improve!
> 
> P.S. It is possible you guys might have missed reading chapter 15 as I had posted that the day before Easter; I just want to make sure you don't miss any juicy bits of the story! (￢‿￢ )


	19. Science!*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! New chapter!!!
> 
> Also, 1000+ HITS?!! I'M???? SO HAPPY???? THANK YOU!!!

As soon as the elevator returned, Shuri pushed Sy and Peter into it, talking a mile a minute, “So, heat immunity: does that include all forms of heat, or just fire? Also, telekinesis: can you move all objects with your mind or only non-biological objects? Back to heat immunity: can you swim in lava? What does it feel like? Also—” she continued like this the entire ride in the elevator and all the way to the lab, not letting Sy answer a single question. By the time they got the Peter’s and Shuri’s lab, Shuri had asked so many questions that Sy wouldn’t have been able to answer them without photographic memory.

 

“—and also, can you ingest molten iron? Or anything with an extremely high temperature?”

 

“Ok, from the beginning: heat immunity includes all forms of heat; I can move all objects with telekinesis, not just non-bio ones; I can swim in lava—”

 

“What does it feel like?”

 

“What?”

 

“What does lava feel like?”

 

“Depends, I have only swum in lava with a very low viscosity, so it felt pretty much like water.”

 

“Ok, continue.”

 

“Um, telekinesis: I originally could only lift what I can lift physically, but with training, I can now lift several times my adrenaline-fueled physical strength, so . . . 350 tons? I could probably lift a lot more with training, but it’s not even close to what Wanda can lift. I am only externally immune to heat, so I have to hold my breath when the surrounding environment is extremely heated, like when I cover myself with fire. Or swim in lava. It’s not a huge problem, since I can hold my breath for ten minutes.”

 

While Sy was answering her, Shuri was heating up a metal knife over a burner until it was almost white hot. “Hold out your arm.” Without preamble, she pressed the knife flat against his forearm and held it for several seconds while watching the skin with narrowed eyes. Peter was leaning against the table, arms crossed, with a fond expression on his face as he watched Shuri. After a minute, Shuri removed the knife and immediately touched the now open skin. “It’s hardly warm!” She then picked up the burner and turned it on his arm.

 

“Shuri!”

 

“Oh calm down Peter, it’s not like it can hurt him.”

 

“No, not that. I just had an idea! Does the heat immunity include chemical _burns?”_

 

Sy blinked, “I . . don’t know. I never had reason to try that.”

 

Shuri and Peter grinned and shuffled through the cabinets containing chemicals. “Aha!” They emerged victorious with Peter holding sulfuric acid and Shuri holding nitric acid. “We’ll try both of them.”

 

Sy looked a little nervous but also curious as he held out his arm; it was true that he had never tried this. “Just a drop at first; I don’t want to burn my arm off.”

 

“Oh please,” Shuri scoffed, “at worst, you’ll have a painful burn; definitely not a severed limb.” Having unstopped the container, Shuri poured a drop of the acid onto Sy’s arm and watched for a reaction.

 

“Is- isn’t it supposed to burn? That _is_ nitric acid, right?” Sy looked fascinated at his unharmed arm. _So I’m immune to chemical burns too! Cool._

 

“Of course it is!” Shuri retorted while pouring the rest of the container’s contents onto Sy’s arm. “I can read. Here, Peter read the label.”

 

Peter stood up, turned his head sassily toward Shuri and quoted, “What’s up? I’m Jared. I’m 19 and I never learned how to read.” The couple dissolved into giggles while Sy just stood there, looking so lost. Shuri froze when she saw this, “Oh no; oh nononononononono _don’t_ tell me you don’t know what vines are!?”

 

At Sy’s sheepish head shake, Peter gasped dramatically, “You! How _DARE_ you! You betray me! We must educate you! Karen!”

 

“Yes, Peter?”

 

“Call an emergency meeting of the Bleach Bois! Tell them we have a chicken nugget who’s dropped his croissant!”

 

Karen whispered, “Right away, Shia LaBeouf.”

 

Sy looked so confused.

 

___________________________

 

 

Within five minutes, Loki, Vision, and Wanda had arrived at Peter’s room, where Shuri and Peter had relocated Sy in a hurry. “What’s this I hear children? Is Sy the chicken nugget?” Loki looked so disappointed.

 

“I guess. But I still don’t know what that means.”

 

“It means you are a brainless travesty who needs to be educated in the world of vines and memes.”

 

Before Sy could react to Wanda’s explanation, Peter interceded, “Don’t be offended; pretty much all the Avengers (besides us) have that label since they refuse to learn vines. Natasha is excluded from that group since she is scary and also knows vines pretty well.”

 

Sy was still slightly miffed, but settled into his spot on the couch between Wanda and Loki while Karen turned on the TV and started the first vine video.

 

They spent the next hour watching vines, and Sy actually found them hilarious after the initial confusion disappeared.

 

After another hour and a half, Sy stood up, “While this has been entertaining, I think I’m going to head to bed.” Waving off the group’s various complaints and old-person jokes, Sy dragged himself out of Peter’s room and into his own room and went to bed.

 

___________________

 

 

Shuri had come to America with her brother to spend Christmas with Peter and the Avengers. She had expected to spend a lot of time getting to know the newest member as well, but it seemed he was avoiding her, and everyone else for that matter. Every day after he got home from school, he would lock himself in his room and, according to FRIDAY, complete homework and fall asleep. He was spending so much time sleeping that he even stopped coming to training sessions with the team, not to mention group dinners.

 

He _did_ join them for Thanksgiving dinner, where he expressed his immense gratitude at being welcomed into this family where he had gained a mom in Natasha and . . even a dad in Bruce. Bruce had teared up at being called “Dad” and Peter snapped a picture of Bruce and Natasha hugging Sy on the sofa during the after-dinner movie.

 

However, after that day, he went back to disappearing to his room and it was annoying Shuri. She and Peter were cuddling and watching Disney movies when she brought it up, “Peter, does your new brother always act like that?”

 

“Like what, Princess?” He always teased her with that nickname.

 

“He’s been avoiding everyone and hasn’t been showing up to training, or anything else for that matter.”

 

Peter’s grew serious, “I noticed too. I’ve been meaning to ask him, but he’s been napping during lunch and free periods at school.”

 

Shuri mused for a moment. “I have a science headcanon it’s some kind of alien hibernation thing.”

 

Peter barked a laugh and nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, “I like when you talk science.”

 

Shuri swatted at his arm, “I’m serious! You should ask him; I noticed that the others seemed worried too.”

 

Peter sighed fondly, “Ok, I’ll talk to him after school tomorrow; for now, cuddles,” and proceeded to further tighten his arms around Shuri.

 

__________________

 

 

Peter didn’t get a chance to question Sy about his sleeping habits until three days later because he had kept sleeping in the car on the way home, as well as pretty much every chance he got. It was becoming very concerning how much he slept. Friday, after they arrived home, Peter held Sy back at the entryway and asked, concerned, “Sy are you ok? You haven’t been doing much other than sleeping for nearly a month.” There were some other Avengers in the room who heard Peter’s question and perked up; they had noticed of course, and were just as concerned for Sy.

 

“I’m fine; I just need to get a lot of rest in for Christmas break.”

 

“Why Christmas break?”

 

“The materials for my suit will arrive the second week of December. As soon as Christmas break arrives, I’ll begin the process of making my suit. And, once I start, I have to go through it without a break. The making of the Garde suit is a tradition that has been passed down generation to generation for millennia. I’m glad you brought it up” he started speaking to everyone else “As soon as school is out the Friday following the ship’s arrival, I will lock myself in my room to make my suit. This isn’t something any of you can help me with; I have to do it on my own, with no interruptions, and without any observers, so please don’t worry about me. Unless there is a life-threatening emergency, please don’t enter my lab.”

 

“Sy, are you sure? What about food, or water? Have you been stockpiling your room?” Bruce asked.

 

Sy shook his head, “I’ll just use my sustenance and water cubes. I’ll be fine; don’t worry.” He smiled and hugged his parents before disappearing to his room.

 

_____________________________

 

 

The Avengers sat and watched until Sy left the room and then huddled together. Tony spoke first, “FRIDAY, initiate the Deaf-as-Clint Protocol.”

 

Clint glared as FRIDAY responded, “Protocol activated, Boss. Room is now soundproof.”

 

“Good, now we can begin planning without his overhearing us. I know we are all worried about our newest recruit, but he has actually given us the perfect opportunity to prepare for Christmas! Once he disappears to make his suit, we can decorate to make his first Christmas with us one that he will remember forever.”

 

“He will remember it forever no matter what we do, Dad: he has photographic memory,” Peter said cheekily.

 

Tony wrapped an arm around Peter and ruffled his hair, “Where is all this snark coming from, huh? I know you didn’t get it from me.”

 

“Yes he did,” said literally everyone else.

 

Tony huffed, “ _Anyway,_ back on topic. Now, I was thinking—”

 

For the rest of the night, they planned and shared every idea they possibly come up with, planning the best Christmas in the history of Avengers Christmas.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave votes if you liked it, and let me know in the comments what you did and didn't like so I can improve!
> 
> A/N: Next chapter will be Sy making his suit!!
> 
> Also, I JUST SAW THE NEW SPIDER-MAN FAR FROM HOME TRAILER AMAZING AAAAAAAAAAAA


	20. Suit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! New chapter; enjoy!

At some point during the first week of December, Sy attached a clearly alien device in an unobtrusive part of the landing pad; since then, he spent most of his time at home on the landing pad: eating there, doing his homework there, and even sleeping there as he waited for his ship.

 

Near the end of the second week of December, a large ship uncloaked as it landed on the landing pad. The Avengers all came running out while Sy just calmly strode toward the release hatch. “Why didn’t FRIDAY alert us of an incoming ship? Or our satellites pick up the ship?” Tony asked, incredulous.

 

Sy looked back at them with a smirk, “This is alien cloaking technology; it could hover directly in front of one of your sensors undetected.” He turned back to the ship and opened the cargo bay, ignoring Tony’s indignant scoff.

 

With telekinesis, Sy carried out several items until the cargo hold was empty. Among the items were: a glass case holding a black and purple sphere with white crystals growing out of it; a large, seamless box with intricate patterning on it; a clear case containing a short silver pipe (which Sy grinned upon seeing); and a locked container suspended in a motion dampening frame.

 

Steve crossed his arms and looked at the ship with distrust, “Wasn’t it supposed to arrive on the tenth? Any idea why it’s late?”

 

Sy shrugged, “I’m actually surprised they were this accurate about the arrival date.”

 

“Why’s that?”

 

While he was speaking, Sy fiddled with a panel just inside the cargo bay, “This is a prototype ship; and a cargo ship. The trip used to take a year—and still does for passenger ships—but this new cargo ship halved the time. They couldn’t be exactly certain how long it would take, so saying ‘December 10th’ was a shot in the dark.” He worked on the screen for a few more seconds then pressed a large button and stepped away from the ship, letting it take off.

 

“Wait, that’s it?” Tony asked, “We don’t get to study this thing?”

 

Sy lifted his chin and smiled slightly, “Nope.” He carried the items into the building and floated them to the elevator, taking up most of the space inside it. “I’m going to take these to my lab; tomorrow’s Friday, so I will be starting the process the day after.” He pointed at Tony, “No snooping. These are valuable resources and I can’t afford lose any of them, you understand.”

 

“Yep, sure.”

 

Sy narrowed his eyes, “Tony . . .”

 

“Scout’s honor,” Tony lifted one hand. “I won’t. Touch. Anything,” he smiled.

 

“Are you going to be done by Christmas?” Peter asked.

 

“Maybe. It might take longer. I’m going to go to bed as soon as I get home tomorrow, so I guess I’ll see you guys Christmas.” He hugged Natasha and Bruce and reentered the elevator. “Good night, everyone!”

 

As the elevator doors closed, Steve turned to Tony, “I hope you were serious about not touching his stuff.”

 

Glaring, Tony shot back, “Of _course_ I was serious. What am I: a liar? As much as it pains me to hold back, you heard how serious he was when he talked about ‘the traditions passed down for generations’ and ‘I have to do it myself.’ I’ll respect the kid’s history and culture.”

 

Steve looked Tony strangely, “A year ago, you would have had FRIDAY spy on the kid while he worked.”

 

“Oh I’m still going to have FRI do that.” Peter glared and Tony skirted around him, “Kidding! Kidding.”

 

_____________________________________

 

 

 

Saturday, Sy woke up early and took a long drought from his water crystal and sustenance cube before addressing FRIDAY, “FRIDAY, please activate LaLaLaLaLa Protocol.” _Tony has got to stop with these ridiculous protocol names._

 

“Are you sure, Sy? If you injure yourself, I won’t be able to call for help without any of my sensors turned on.”

 

“I understand; activate protocol.”

 

“Activating. When you wish to allow me back into the room, simply scan your hand on the panel by the door.” Sy could hear the electricity stop flowing to several sensors and microphones throughout the room and set himself to his task.

 

He walked to the seamless box and opened it with telekinesis. Inside were the materials for his Garde suit, along with a tablet. _That should contain the information on the process._

 

Sy read through the information and then reread it to make sure he didn’t miss anything. When was sure that he could copy the process perfectly, he set the tablet aside and reached for the locked box, removing it from its motion-dampening frame. Having unlocked it, he opened the box and pulled out a glass vial with a clear liquid that turned light blue where his fingers touched the glass. He unstopped the vial and poured a generous amount of the liquid onto his palm, watching with awe as the liquid hardened into a crystal and grew several times in volume until it was a perfectly spherical blue gem the size of a tennis ball. _Loralite._

 

Still holding the crystal, Sy flicked on the furnace he’d built last week and left it to heat up on its own. He focused on the crystal, putting a light pressure over its entire surface and concentrating on keeping it uniform. Gradually, he increased the pressure until a single crack formed down the middle. The furnace then alerted him it had reached the desired temperature, and he could proceed to the next step.

 

He opened the furnace and floated the gem into the center, still keeping the pressure even, and closed the furnace. To ensure even heating, he slowly rotated the gem and watched it through the viewing port.

 

When it suddenly turned colorless, Sy increased the pressure slightly and waited until the Loralite fully melted; then, he removed the liquid and poured it into a machine that he removed from the box with the Garde suit materials. This small machine fused on a molecular level the liquid Loralite with particles that would enable Sy to program the Loralite much like Tony did his nanotech. Bonding the particles to the Loralite greatly decreased its melting point so it remained liquid at room temperature.

 

Sy worked for hours pressurizing, heating, and bonding the Loralite until the night aged and sunlight started peaking through his window. He ignored it and kept working.

 

Traditionally, the Garde suits were all black with single, colored stripe down the front; but it wasn’t uncommon for Garde to add their own style to the suit. Over the next two days, Sy programmed the material until it could form around his body in the desired design and solidify, providing light armoring. The design wasn’t too flashy: all black, it had a two-inch electric-blue band from his right collar bone down to his hip. A thin line of color branched off at the shoulder and traced the outside of his arm, splitting into five parts at his wrist and onto the gloves. The gloves he could recall mentally so the sleeve ended at his wrist. The line of color ran across his chest and down his other arm as well.

 

He was pleased with the way the suit contoured to his muscles. _I guess that’s a byproduct of having a liquid suit._ There was one-inch bank of color on the outside of his lower legs that tapered into points on top and merged into the soles of his boots at the bottom; the soles were also blue.

 

 _I like this._ He focused on pulling the suit into its storage form and watched as it turned to liquid and flowed into the Lorien symbol for  _Unity_  on his chest, forming a necklace. _Perfect._ He was wearing a basic, skintight under-layer that he would, he decided, wear under all his clothes so he could change into the suit at a moment’s notice if necessary.

 

He smiled slightly when he thought of how the others all had a necklace with the symbol for _Unity._ _Ha ha, I’ve got a cooler necklace than you!_ He rolled his eyes at his own ridiculousness and reformed the suit around himself. _Now, for the Legacies._

 

In order for the suit to augment properly with a Garde’s Legacies, one had to expose the suit to the strains associated with those Legacies—if it was necessary of course: telepathy or super hearing for example was inconsequential to the suit, unless it had a mask. Sy’s suit had a mask—retractable like his gloves—that wouldn’t interfere with his hearing. He incorporated some small bits of tech so he could have comms with the team.

 

Lumen was easy to augment: simply expose the suit to small bits of flame and slowly increase the temperature, allowing the fused particles to adjust to the heat and enabling future exposure to heat under much more violent circumstances.

 

The suit was already waterproof and able to withstand enormous amounts of pressure, which Sy was able to withstand as well due to the Water Breathing Legacy. Next was Externa. He didn’t use it much because it was inefficient for him to restrict himself to using one hand by constantly holding whatever materials would be useful in battle; it had worked for Five, but Sy preferred full use of both his hands. Sy lifted several small pieces of various materials he gathered and pressed them against several parts of the suit with TK **(Telekinesis. I’ll use that from now on to save time. :P)**. Slowly, the parts of the suit in contact with the materials changed to those materials, creating round spots that gradually spread outward from the pieces, like when you put a Skittles in a plate of water.

 

When the whole suit was composed of the various materials, Sy removed the pieces and let the suit change back to its original material. Then, he picked up a small piece of steel and turned his hand to steel, letting it spread across his body and making sure the suit changed with him. When he was entirely steel, he flexed his arm and contorted into various positions, constantly checking that the suit moved with him. It did. He repeated the process with the various other materials until he was certain it had worked. The process took hours and by the time he finished, the light had dimmed and night bloomed in New York.

 

Countless hours turned into days as Sy meticulously augmented his suit with his Legacies until he was sure it would compliment them properly. He exposed it to electricity, cold, the space-bending energies of Teleportation, Invisibility, and Super Speed. He even tested how the suit reacted to multiple Legacies at once. It was amazing, and if Sy hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have rushed to the common room to show it off to the team.

 

Instead, he dragged himself to his bedroom and collapsed on top of the covers, falling asleep instantly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS IS NOT CANON!! These are my own ideas for the story! Keeping that in mind, the liquid Loralite in the vials was prepared in a different manner than Sy prepared it; it was treated to be stored in a liquid form (with much less volume) that would only change into solid upon skin contact with a Lorien. Sy treated it so it could be used for making a Garde suit.
> 
> Leave kudos if you liked it and let me know in the comments what you did or didn't like so I can improve!!
> 
> Ok, I know this wasn't plot-heavy and I'm sorry, but it will be a while before I post my next chapter. I have a trip coming up with my band and will be gone for a few days


	21. Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! I'm back! The trip was great; I had a great time!!
> 
> Enjoy the chapter

Sy awoke the next day with the mother of all sore muscles and a complimentary headache. He groaned and gingerly stood up, stretching until his joint cracked. “FRIDAY, what day is it?” No answer. “FRIDAY?” _Oh, duh, I have to let her back in._

 

He shuffled to the door to his bedroom and reactivated FRIDAY in his suite.

 

“Good morning, Sy. I assume you have finished your task?”

 

Sy smiled gleefully, “Yes, yes I did.” He looked through his window and saw by the light that is was late morning. “What day is it, FRIDAY?”

 

“It is Christmas morning.”

 

Sy’s snapped his eyes to the ceiling, “Seriously?!” He shook his head in disbelief. “I really thought it would take me two weeks _at least.”_

 

 _So, I finished in time for Christmas._ He smiled to himself, holding his new necklace. _My gift to myself._

 

“FRIDAY, is anyone else awake?”

 

“Most of the team has woken up. It has generally been an unspoken rule to not wake up before the sun on Christmas Day, and that rule was rigidly enforced when a certain child came to live with the Avengers.”

 

“Ooo, throwing some shade to Peter, are we?” Sy smirked and stretched again, then made to leave his room.

 

“Would you like me to tell the others you will be joining them?”

 

“Nah, I think I’ll surprise them.”

 

He left the room and was immediately met with the sight of the hallway decorated with more Christmas lights than he had ever seen indoors. Stunned, he treaded through the hallway, touching the lights as he passed them. The cords connecting the lights were covered with tinsel that glowed with a wonderful iridescence.

 

He smiled to himself and waved his hand, flaring the lights and lingering a bit at each one, ignoring time and enjoying the moment.

 

He heard a gasp and some shuffling, followed by a commotion and a hushed, “Shhh, look, he’s enjoying the lights, let him be.”

 

“Is he changing the lights?”

 

“Yes, Clint, he can do that; now shush!”

 

“How many powers can one person have? Natasha, why didn’t you tell us he had so many powers?”

 

“I can hear you, you know.” The voices stopped, and Sy turned to see most of the Avengers along with Clint’s family, Shuri, Pepper, and Cassie. He smiled at them and gave an awkward wave, “Hi! Oof!” He felt Peter collide with him, and patted him on the back. “Ok. Peter. Super strength. Please.”

 

“Sorry, sorry. You alright?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just sore mostly.” The others gathered around Sy and Natasha enveloped him in a hug. “Hey, Mom.” He hugged her back and closed his eyes, sighing as she ran her fingers through his hair. “I missed you.”

 

“I missed you too. Did you finish?”

 

Sy pulled back and grinned, “Yep! What do you think?” He stepped back and held out his arms, turning for everyone to see.

 

Tony eyed Sy’s garb dubiously, “It looks like a onesie. Honestly, what is it with kids and onesies for super suits?”

 

With a smirk, Sy willed his suit to flow from his necklace, watching the Avengers—primarily Tony—gape as the suit formed around his body and solidified. He turned one more time before allowing the mask and gloves to recede. “What about now?”

 

“That. Looks. Awesome!!” Lila shouted.

 

“Yeah it does! How does it fit in the necklace?” Cooper asked.

 

“Liquid Loralite is highly compressible.”

 

“Does it have weapons?”

 

Sy bent down slightly and stared Cooper in the eyes, “I am the weapon.”

 

Cooper gulped.

 

“Hey, hey, c’mon stop scaring my kid, that’s not nice,” Clint hugged Cooper protectively from behind. “What are you trying to do: give my kid nightmares?”

 

Sy shook his head, “Nah, I was just messing; sorry Cooper. Friends?” He held out his hand.

 

Cooper took his hand then pointed a finger at Sy, “Don’t scare Nathaniel like that once he gets old enough to understand, you got it?”

 

Sy lifted his hands, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

 

Tony clapped his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention, “All right, we have a new member in the family; and it’s his first Christmas with us! Let us begin the festivities!” he ended an announcer-like voice.

 

“Breakfast first! Then gifts!”

 

Sy wrapped an arm around Peter’s head and ruffled his hair, “You really are a child aren’t you?”

 

Shuri swatted at Sy and pulled Peter into the seat next to her, “Stop assaulting my fiancé!”

 

Sy’s eyebrows shot up and he looked at Peter, “Fiancé?”

 

Groaning, Peter dropped his head onto the table, “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

 

Shuri shook her head, “Why would I?”

 

“I’m so confused, are you two actually engaged?”

 

“No, no we aren’t. Shuri was teaching me Xhosa and I accidentally said ‘will you marry me?’ instead of ‘don’t you like me?’ I was trying to tease her and inadvertently proposed. She even made a ring and everything.” He pointed to Shuri’s left hand without looking.

 

Sy whistled, “It’s a beautiful ring. Congratulations! Can I expect a wedding invite?”

 

Peter groaned and Shuri patted Sy’s arm, “Of course, you’ll get a front row seat!”

 

Peter groaned louder.

 

Breakfast was wonderfully chaotic with everyone there. Everyone was talking and laughing and teasing all while the wonderful smells from the various foods wafted across the table. Everyone ate until they were overfull and Peter, Steve, and Thor even had a competition to see who could eat the most Christmas cookies. Thor won, but it was a tie between Peter and Steve.

 

Once everyone finished eating, Cassie, Lila, and Cooper looked at each other and shouted in unison “Presents!” and rushed to the tree.

 

Chuckling, the rest of the group gathered around the tree and began the frankly daunting task of sorting out the presents. There appeared to be more presents than tree, which would not be surprising.

 

Sy laughed at the matching t-shirts Sam got him and Natasha that said, “If knives can’t solve your problem, you aren’t using enough knives.” Peter got vibranium web-shooters from Shuri as well as a kiss, at which the adult hooted and whistled and covered the children’s eyes.

 

Peter handed Sy a box that held an arm band made of several hexagons of various materials held together by a magnetic frame, “You said you don’t use Externa because it’s inconvenient to constantly hold the materials, so I made you an arm band. It has a ton of different materials in it, and it’s modular, so you can add or remove whatever you want. There are even some extra clips so you can add other materials later.”

 

Sy gripped Peter’s arm and gave him a bro hug, then lifted his sleeve to slip on the band. It fit snugly without moving, and he could feel the contact with each material. He quickly cycled through the different materials and was please to find how easy it was to use them. “This is amazing! Thank you. It makes it so much easier.”

 

Bruce gave Sy a set of small earbuds, “These are for your super hearing—to help you sleep. Peter helps with the actual building, but the design is mostly mine. They are noise-canceling and can be connected to FRIDAY or your phone with Bluetooth.”

 

As the gift opening wound down, Sy grabbed two small gifts, hesitantly approached Natasha and Bruce, and handed them the gifts, “Here, these are for you.”

 

Nat and Bruce opened the gifts to reveal a necklace and a bracelet. The necklace had a pendant of a strange symbol and the bracelet had a different symbol repeated around it. “They uh- Those are the Lorien symbols for ‘Mother’ and ‘Father.’ It was- um- it was traditional for- for Garde children to give to their parents when they came of age and finished their training. Garde were assigned Cepân from birth to raise them and teach them initially about their powers while the parents focused on perfectly mastering their abilities. Once the children finished their initial training they would be allowed to see their parents and develop relationships with them. They would give those to their parents the first time they saw them.” Sy fell silent and tried to gauge their reactions.

 

Natasha gave Sy a watery smile and held out a wrapped present. Confused, Sy received the gift; it felt flexible, like a thin book. “Open it,” Natasha prompted.

 

Sy carefully removed the wrapping paper and looked at the gift. His breath caught in his throat. “Family Court . . . State of New York . . . Adoption.” Those words stuck in his mind and brought tears to his eyes. He hugged Natasha and Bruce and squeezed tightly.

 

Natasha spoke softly, “We can’t legally adopt you until you become an American citizen, but Fury can push that process through very quickly if you want.”

 

Sy thought about his next words, “I- I would like this; a lot. But there would have to be some conditions with the citizenship. I most definitely would love to be adopted by you two; I love you, Mom, Dad.” He gave them one more squeeze and pulled back, wiping his eyes. “I also have to think about my position as representative of Lorien. I will have to be able to maintain autonomy if I become a US citizen.”

 

“That can be arranged.” Everyone turned toward the voice to see Nick Fury enter the room, wearing a hoodie and winter jacket. “The President owes me a couple favors so I think we can arrange to have you become a US citizen without forcing loyalty in any diplomatic situations concerning your planet. That is, of course, unless you agree to an alliance with the US.”

 

Shaking out of his stupor, Sy responded, “No, we’re not prepared to form any alliances at this time. That will have to wait until a future date.”

 

Fury nodded, “Ok; in the mean time, sign those adoption papers, as well as these papers,” he held out a folder “and we can get you American citizenship—no strings attached. Congratulations on the adoption, Agent Romanov, Dr. Banner. Merry Christmas.” Fury nodded and disappeared, leaving Sy holding the folder with citizenship papers along with his adoption papers.

 

The Avengers clambered around Sy then, slapping him on the back and congratulating him. Sy didn’t stop smiling or leave his parent’s sides for the rest of the day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not greatly pleased with this chapter, but oh well
> 
> Leave kudos if you like it and let me know in the comments what you did or didn't like so I can improve!!


	22. Patrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! This chapter isn't very plot-heavy (mostly a filler)
> 
> But I hope you enjoy!!!!

When winter break ended, Peter and Sy had to shrug off the break laziness and return to school, a procedure hated by many students. Eventually, however, they got back into their rhythms and exited the “Holiday HazeTM.” About the middle of January, Peter stilled as they left the school grounds. “Sy, do you know what I just realized?”

 

He sounded unusually excited, so Sy responded cautiously, “What?”

 

Peter whisper-shouted, “You have your suit now! You can patrol with me!”

 

Sy’s eyes widened at the revelation, “Do you think they’ll be ok with that?!”

 

“Check!” he urged.

 

Hot-Head: Hey, Mom? May I patrol with Peter?

 

Spider-Mama: Are you sure you want to? You will essentially be revealing your presence to the world, even if it’s only that of your alter-ego.

 

Hot-Head: Yes, I’m sure! Please!

 

Spider-Mama: Hmm

 

Spider-Mama: If you’re certain . . . fine go ahead. But BE CAREFUL

 

Hot-Head: I will! Love you Mom!

 

Sy shoved his phone into his back pocket and jogged with Peter to his alleyway. “This is where you change? How do you not freeze in the winter?”

 

“I keep my suit on underneath my clothes; it has a heater.”

 

“Cool.” Sy willed his suit to flow out under his clothes and undressed, stuffing his clothes into his backpack. “Where do we put these?”

 

Peter responded, embarrassed, “Well, I used to web my backpack to the dumpster, but it kept getting stolen. So Dad made me drop it off at home through a window FRIDAY opens. I can ask Karen to ask FRIDAY to open yours too.”

 

“Nah, I can ask her myself.”

 

Spider-Man’s white eyes blinked at Sy, “You have FRI installed in your suit?”

 

“No, no, I’m a technopath, remember? I can directly interface with any technology of which I have a basic understanding. I can just talk to FRIDAY.”

 

“That. Is. So. Cool! C’mon!” Suited up, Peter put on his backpack and jumped onto the adjacent building, Sy following suit.

 

As Peter swung and Sy ran on walls and hopped from building to building next to him, Sy set up a mental link with Peter, _How are we going to do this?_

_Whoa, is this telepathy?_

_Yep, I set up a mental link, so if your comms get fried, we can still talk._

_Cool! I asked Karen to formulate a patrol course for two people that will maximize coverage and efficiency; she should finish by the time we get to the Tower._

_Ok._ They made their way toward the Tower in silence. When they arrived, Sy mentally asked FRIDAY to open his window; she did.

 

Having deposited their backpacks, Sy and Peter stood on the windows outside the Tower and waited a short bit for Karen to finish calculating their route for today. “She’s done!” Peter announced. “She came up with several routes so we don’t do the same thing every day. How close do you have to be to direct interface with her?”

 

“Since I have a mental link set up with you, I don’t have a maximum distance. I’ll be fine.” Sy downloaded the route from Karen and they set off. For the next several hours, until about eleven, when they would go home, they helped anyone and everyone that needed it. They kept tabs on each other through the mental link as they patrolled all of Manhattan—which they were able to do by splitting it up.

 

Sy stopped several purse-snatchers and ATM robberies, and helped a couple old pedestrians to their destinations. He actually turned a lot of heads with his presence: this was his first time appearing in public, and based on the numerous pictures people were taking of him, he would be internet famous by the next day.

 

An hour or so before dark, he heard a little girl crying a block away and leapt off his building to find the reason. He found a maybe five or six year old girl bundled up and standing alone on the sidewalk. He jumped down and landed several feet away so as not to startle her and slowly approached, “Are you ok kid?”

 

She looked scared and backed up upon seeing him, “Spider-Man? Your suit looks weird.”

 

Sy chuckled and crouched down in front of her, “No, I’m not Spider-Man. He and I are good friends though. Is there any way I can help?”

 

She hugged herself and hastily wiped the tears tracks on her face, “I- I can’t find my- my parents.”

 

“Oh? Where did you lose them?”

 

The girl shrugged and frowned, thinking, “I don’t know. We were at Delmar’s but I lost them when we left and I don’t know how to get back.”

 

“Well what do you say we go find them?” he held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, she took it.

 

“What’s your superhero name?”

 

“I never really thought about it,” Sy was silent for a moment, “You can call me Legacy.”

 

The girl smiled and hopped over the curb as they crossed the street, “Cool! You can call me Lily!”

 

Sy lifted an eyebrow under his mask, “Lily, huh? Do you like flowers, Lily?”

 

She nodded vigorously at that, “I love taking photos of my flowers every day and stringing them together. My dad—he’s a photographer—taught me how to put all the pictures on the computer to make a video; I have several videos of my flowers growing really fast! It’s so cool watching pho-to-syn-the-sis working so much!”

 

“I like flowers too! What’s your favorite?” She looked at him like he was stupid. “What? Should I know? Oh! Is it a dandelion?”

 

Lily giggled, “No!”

 

“A petunia?”

 

“No!” she shouted and giggled again.

 

“Hmm, I don’t know,” he peeked at her suspiciously, “Is it: a lily?”

 

“Yes!! I _love_ lilies!”

 

“Lilies _are_ beautiful flowers. Do you have a lot of them?”

 

“Yeah! I’ve been taking care of them since I was four; several of them died, but mom and dad helped me keep the other ones alive.”

 

They suddenly heard a relieved pair of voices shout, “Lily?! Lily, _there_ you are!” Sy watched as a young couple rushed toward them, scooping up Lily and hugging her tightly. “Don’t you ever run off like that again! Where were you?”

 

“I got lost; but this nice superhero—his superhero name is ‘Legacy’—helped me find you again! He likes flowers too!” Lily pointed to Sy and her parents took notice of him for the first time.

 

Giving a little wave, he explained, “I heard her crying and wanted to help; she was only two blocks away and she mentioned she lost you at Delmar’s so I brought her back here.”

 

Lily’s father shook Sy’s hand tightly, “Thank you, really. We were just about to call the police.”

 

Sy waved off the gratitude, “I’m just glad I could help. Can I give Lily something?” The father eyed him warily but nodded.

 

He approached Lily—who was now standing on the ground hugging her mother—and held out his hand, retracting his glove. She watched transfixed as a small bulb grew in his palm and sprouted a shoot which bloomed into an electric blue lily, eliciting a gasp from Lily. He held out the flower to her, and she took it reverently. “Plant it when you get home and take care of it, yeah?”

 

She nodded slowly, still staring at the flower in wonder. Suddenly, she hugged him and whispered, “Thank you for helping me,” and retreated next to her mom.

 

Sy stood up and saluted the couple before leaping onto the building and searching for the next case.

________________________

 

For the rest of the night, things seemed to quiet down quite a bit and Peter reported the same on his side of Manhattan when Sy checked in. It seems having another superhero appear and work alongside Spidey makes criminals hesitant to commit crimes. They stayed out the rest of their allotted patrol time before making their way home, grabbing late-night sandwiches from Delmar’s.

 

Tony and Pepper were conversing on the sofa and Natasha was reading on her cushioned seat when Sy and Peter slipped into through the common room window. Natasha looked up from her book, “How was patrol?”

 

Sy retracted his mask, grinning, and gave her a hug, “It was great! I stopped a few crimes, helped a few people. There was this one girl, who lost her parents; her name was Lily. We talked about flowers while looking for her parents where she lost them, and I gave her a lily when I left.”

 

That elicited a bark of laughter from Tony, “You gave a lily to Lily? Really?”

 

Sy shrugged, “She said that was her favorite flower. After that, there were some ATM robbers that knew absolutely nothing about what they were doing; but things quieted down significantly by eleven.”

 

Peter nodded and started chatting excitedly, “Karen found a team robbing a bank. There actually were some hostages, but there were few enough that I could handle it. There were a few ATM robberies too, and I helped an old man find his wife. She hugged me and gave me a Danish which was so delicious. By the way, I’m starving; is there any food?”

 

Amid a few chuckled, Tony led Peter to the kitchen while Sy sauntered to his room to get changed before grabbing a late-night snack, finishing his homework, and going to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you liked (or didn't like) it and leave kudos plz
> 
> We are nearing the end of this story; only a couple more chapters to go :'(  
> But don't worry, I am planning on having more parts to the story ;)


	23. Anniversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! New chapter; this one is really painful, but it is something that had to be addressed, so, sorry
> 
> WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF TORTURE AND DEATH

_“YOU WON’T TAKE HIM!!”_

_“RRRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH”_

 

_“Run, Sy! Don’t look back! Ruuuu-“_

 

Sy bolted upright. “MOM! DAD!” he cried out. _It’s dark. I’m in a bed? What? Where are they?_ As Sy’s mind cleared he realized where he was and lay back down, running his hands down his face. His face felt wet; he had been crying in his sleep. _It was a dream. You’re safe. It’s been five yea— six years. They’re gone. Why? WHY. DID THEY. HAVE. TO DIE?_ He accented his thoughts with blows to his bed. _Why? You could have saved them. You could have fought! Why didn’t you do anything?!_ Sy gripped the mattress of his bed. He didn’t deserve a bed. He didn’t deserve anything.

 

Sy let out an agonizing shriek and threw his night stand across the room, dashing it to pieces against the wall. _I don’t deserve any of this. I don’t deserve anything._ He was sobbing again. _Why? Why? Why? Why does it have to hurt so much?_

 

Sy hugged his knees tightly, hating himself more than ever. He didn’t want to live that day again. But his brain wouldn’t stop; it tormented him. Over, and over, and over he watched his parents die. He sobbed violently and curled up on the ground.

 

Every year, _every single year,_ this happened to him. He had hoped patrolling would keep his mind from reliving that day, but three weeks of patrolling at every possible moment and it was still hopeless. He shrieked as he heard his mother’s neck snap, his father gurgle as he was stabbed through the heart.

 

Then his brain decided to further torture him and replay the hallucinations. _No. Please no._ He watched as the Mog doctor placed his hand on Sy’s forehead and thrust Sy into a world of his making—made him live experiences that never happened. _Stop. Please._ He relived the false memories of killing his own parents: crushing them to death, shooting them, stabbing them. If the doctor was feeling especially malicious, he would have Sy torture his parents. _No!_ And the thing Sy hated the most is that he made Sy like it. Made him forget he was anything but the servant of Setrákus Ra and forget that these two people were anyone but prisoners to be tortured. And every time his parents would “die,” the doctor would make him remember: remember who he was; realize who he just “killed.” And he wanted to kill himself for it.

 

Once he let it slip that he had photographic memory, the doctor took special care to put painstaking detail into the hallucinations. They were the most vivid memories he had and he _couldn’t stop reliving them._ Sy choked on his tears; dry-heaved as he relived watching the life leave his parents’ eyes; spiraled deeper and deeper into a never-ending pit of his memories. _Please just let it stop!_

____________________

 

Peter was eating breakfast with Natasha and Steve when he heard a faint scream; his spider-sense was only fluttering but he still felt uneasy.

 

“Peter?” He started when Nat placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you ok? You stopped eating for a while.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, “I just thought I heard a scream, but I don’t sense anything.”

 

She looked concerned but cleared her face and continued eating. “Do you know where Sy is? He should be down from breakfast soon; you have school in an hour.”

 

Peter shook his head, “No, I haven’t seen him since patrol last night.”

 

Natasha narrowed her eyes and addressed FRIDAY, “FRIDAY, where is Sy?”

 

“Young Romanov is in his room. He appears to be in distress but none of my sensors are picking up anything to cause it.”

 

Peter and Natasha both jumped up and ran for Sy’s room. “FRIDAY, what is he doing?”

 

“I don’t have camera visual in his room, but I can hear him crying and—I believe he destroyed his night stand.”

 

They were nervously waiting for the elevator to take them to the appropriate level as they listened to FRIDAY, “Why wasn’t I alerted of this?”

 

“Young Romanov asked that I not alert anyone when he wakes up from a nightmare. Aside from destroying the night stand, all his actions suggested he had simply experienced a nightmare.”

 

As they rushed out of the elevator, Peter was able to much more clearly hear not only periodic screams, but also sobbing, “He sounds like he’s being tortured!”

 

They slid up to and pounded on his door, “Sy? Sy can you hear me? Open the door!” When they didn’t receive a response, Nat overrode FRIDAY and ordered her to open the door. The scene inside was heartbreaking: his nightstand was in pieces next to a hole in the wall, the room was tangle of thorn bushes and dying plants, and the area immediately surrounding Sy was a mix of burnt to a crisp and frozen solid, his bed frame cracked. Natasha sprang to his side, barely taking in the rivulets of blood dripping from scratches on his head, and wrapped him up in a tight embrace. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re ok now. They aren’t hurting you; they can’t hurt you anymore.” She flinched as a scream ripped from Sy’s throat.

 

“I killed them; I killed them. Over and over. But I didn’t; they were already dead. But I tortured them; but I didn’t—it won’t stop. He made me like it; but I didn’t. I didn’t even do it; but I did. And—STOP!!” he screamed in agony. “It won’t stop.” He clutched his head and curled into Natasha’s embrace. Her heart dropped at his words: _was it another form of torture?_ “Listen to me: you aren’t there right now. You said you didn’t do those things, so you didn’t. It isn’t real.”

 

“But I did; but I didn’t. I did; no. He shoved memories in my brain. Made me hallucinate. Cracking, snapping, gurgling—STOP—their necks, knives, electricity, my bare hands. MOM! DAD! Scalpels. Fire. Ice. PLEASE. Just stop.” Her heart turned cold as realization dawned on her: whoever had tortured him had planted false memories in his head—memories of torturing and killing his own parents. She choked back a sob and pulled Sy closer, “Sy, it isn’t real; focus on my voice.” Sy moved his hands from his ears to his face, muffling his cries but opening himself to her words. “You’re safe. You didn’t kill your parents; you didn’t torture your parents. Your parents gave their lives to save yours. They died honorably. They gave their lives because they loved you. I love you Sy. You’re not there anymore. You’re home.”

 

Tear tracks continued down Sy’s face and shivers still ran through him, but his muffled screams had ceased, and he pressed further into Natasha’s side as she rubbed his back soothingly. “They died today—six years ago.” _Deep breath. Sob._ “I couldn’t do anything. I watched—I heard—I felt—them die. And I couldn’t do anything.” _Cough. Another small sob._

 

“You were a child. They loved you and did everything in their power to keep you safe. You’re safe now.” He stopped crying and fell motionless, staring without seeing. Natasha looked up at the ceiling, “FRIDAY, email Midtown. Let them know Sy won’t be at school today.” She didn’t respond, but Natasha knew she heard. Peter had to leave some time ago for school, so it was just her and Sy.

 

Natasha rocked Sy until he stirred from his stupor, shaking. “Mom?”

 

She pressed a kiss into his hair, “I’m here мой сын.”

 

“I love you too.” He fell asleep cradled in his mom’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> мой сын = my son
> 
> The next chapter will be the last full chapter, after that the epilogue/sneak peek. At some point, I will add a connected one-shot series for parts that wouldn't have fit in the flow of the story
> 
> Let me know what you thought and leave kudos if you liked it!


	24. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High-low! I'm posting this chapter now because I had something come up and I won't be able to post anymore for a while. This chapter isn't the best ending, but it's what I wrote, so, I really hope you enjoy.
> 
> Hope you like it!

To try clearing his mind, Sy threw himself into school work, patrolling, and training for days after his episode; Blue and Reon often patrolled with him as birds to keep an eye on him. His family was worried for him, but all they could do was be there for him when he needed them and offer him their support. Forging also seemed to be a good way to take his mind off his past, and he even started delving into types of swords other than the katana. Gradually, his family began to see improvement.

 

It was a week before he could smile again; a month before he laughed. He would still have flashbacks, but Natasha was usually there and could talk him out of them. When Wanda was present, she could block the memories herself. One day, she presented an idea that made Sy’s eyes glisten with hope: she could try to block the memories using her powers. The process would be long and painful, as he would have to relive all his memories as she blocked them; but he would be rid of them, barring any direct reminders.

 

When Sy learned that Wanda would be reliving the memories along with him, he flat out refused. He would never thrust his traumatic life on someone else if he could help it. The earful he received about siblings helping each other whenever possible was enough to cow the staunchest general and served to convince Sy to allow her to help.

 

The process would take a long time, given that the blocks would have to work in spite of his photographic memory, and given the sheer volume of traumatic memories. They agreed to hold a session every other Saturday, both to work on a day when they had plenty of time and to provide a rest period after each session.

 

They started the following Saturday.

 

It was grueling, even to those who watched them. Wanda and Sy would scream in unison at particularly horrible moments, causing everyone present to flinch. Every session left Wanda nauseated, and every Avenger in awe of both of their tenacity: of Sy for living with the horrible memories, and of Wanda for willingly submitting herself to the torturous stream of memory. She refused to describe anything she saw, and would spend the rest of the day after each session holding Sy, as if confirming to herself that he actually survived the torture she experienced.

 

After two months of biweekly sessions, Bruce asked about their progress. “We barely made it past the first week,” Wanda revealed, tiredly.

 

“How is that possible? You’ve been working for hours every session and already held five sessions.”

 

“I don’t think you understand how his mind works. The traumatic memories start after his parents already taught him how to ‘see’ with telekinesis. You know how with VR you can walk around a still scene and examine every aspect of it from any angle? That’s basically what he’s doing at any given moment. Every texture, every shape, every position—he can see everything in a quarter-mile radius. He watched his parents die like that; he was tortured like that. That’s not even mentioning what he heard, smelled, tasted, and actually saw with his eyes—even what he felt. I am working the fastest I accurately can; he has nine months of extremely traumatic memories.” She glanced forlornly at Sy’s unconscious form, “Without a . . . _team_ of telepaths, this will take me at least five years.”

 

Tony shook his head, “Unacceptable—for both of you. You need a team of telepaths? You’re getting a team of telepaths.” He walked away, taking out his phone and dialing a contact, “Hi, Professor X? I have something I need your help with. Yeah, it’s not a mission; it has to do with memories . . .”

______________________________

 

Sy was still asleep when he felt a foreign mind enter his own; alarmed, he thrust it out and shielded his mind, preparing for another attack. When the mind didn’t resume the attack, he allowed himself to wake up, and observed his surroundings. Wanda was still there, but there were several other people he didn’t recognize: an aging bald man in a wheelchair, a woman with nearly-white blonde hair, and another woman with striking red hair. The two women wore jackets with an X on the shoulder and the man’s wheelchair had Xs on its wheels. “Who are you? And who attacked my mind?”

 

The man raised his hands placatingly, “I had no intention of attacking your mind, Sy. I simply wished to get a feel for what kind of person you were.”

 

“That doesn’t answer my first question, nor is it a comforting answer.”

 

“I am Professor Charles Xavier. These are teachers in my School for Gifted Children, Jean Gray, and Emma Frost.” He gestured to each as he said their names.

 

“Why are you here?”

 

“We were invited here to—with your permission, of course—assist Ms. Maximoff in blocking out your traumatic memories. I understand they can be quite-“

 

“No.”

 

“No?” he seemed surprised.

 

“No.”

 

Wanda interjected, “Sy, I need their help; without it, it could take me years to block those memories.”

 

“I will not subject anyone else to my memories.”

 

One of the women, Emma Frost, lifted an eyebrow, “Do you think you are the only one in this room who has suffered torture?”

 

Sy fixed her with a stony gaze, “Did Wanda explain the kinds of memories I have? No? Let me explain: I don’t know if you are aware or not, but I am an alien. I already think differently than you do. I process things at an increased rate and efficiency. I can also ‘see’ my surroundings with my telekinesis; in this manner, I can see the 3,427,589 particles of dust in the air, just in the small area we are occupying. Nearly _all_ of my traumatic memories include this aspect of sight. Furthermore, I have photographic memory, so it’s not just vague memories that decayed over time; every, single, one of those memories are constantly pounding at the back of my eyes with infinite detail—my parents’ deaths, my own physical torture, the false memories that were shoved into my head. Do you really want to open yourselves to memories in which you _enjoyed_ torturing and killing people you have no memory of, only to suddenly remember they were your own _parents_? Do you really want to experience that?”

 

By the end of Sy’s impassioned speech, Jean looked heartbroken, while the Professor stared intensely at Sy, “Do _you_ want to spend another six years with those memories at the forefront of your mind?”

 

Sy stared back for a moment before dropping his head into his hands, his posture defeated: “No. No, I _really_ don’t.”

 

The Professor wheeled forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Then let us help you.”

 

With Sy’s consent, they began working. The team stayed in the Tower as long as the treatment took to complete; fortunately, schools were on Spring Break, so they could work continuously without interruption. They each took on different aspects of Sy’s memories: Frost and the Professor focused on the telekinetic sight as well as the multitude of emotions Sy experienced, Wanda focused on Sy’s physical senses, and Jean filtered the memories so they could block them without having to experience their full force.

 

It was a grueling process: the memories really were as horrifying as Sy made them sound, and without Jean’s filtering, it would have taken a month instead of a week. Every day, however, Sy grew less and less dismal, and by the end of the week, he was positively beaming. As the three prepared to leave, he gave each of them a hug, “Thank you, _so_ much. I would say you don’t understand how much, but you have literally been in my mind, so you know how much this means to me. Thank you.”

 

The three gave their farewells and left the Tower, and the Avengers put together a celebratory dinner throughout which Sy never stopped smiling. After the dinner, when everyone herded into the common room to watch some movie, Sy sat in between Natasha and Bruce; Natasha nudged him, whispering, “How does it feel?”

 

He smiled so wide, his cheeks almost hurt, “It feels amazing! Unless I consciously choose to remember, they stay back. It’s so _relaxing,_ not constantly having to keep them back.” He sighed and let his head fall back on the sofa. “It feels like I’m finally safe.”

 

Bruce placed a hand on his knee, “You’re always safe with us.”

 

Sy looked around at everyone there: Loki was sneaking poison into Thor’s drink, Peter was curled around Shuri, Blue and Reon were lying on Sy’s feet, Tony had an arm wrapped around Pepper, Steve had his eyes glued to the screen, Wanda was cuddled into Vision—everything seemed so peaceful. Like a family.

 

 _Family._ _His family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated the story on Wattpad with more pictures in previous chapters, so check it out!
> 
> Leave kudos if you liked it and let me know what you thought!


End file.
